


The Club

by lovinthelads



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinthelads/pseuds/lovinthelads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guti runs a strip club on the wrong side of town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Club

The Rules:

Only Flirt.

Never play favorites, unless they’re paying for it.

Never meet a client outside of the club.

Never fall in love.

When you break the rules, don’t get caught.

 

The Club

 

Prologue:

Guti slid his cock into the not entirely willing ass with a hiss of pleasure.  
"I'm sorry," whimpered the young man below him, hands gripping the desk.  
"Sorry you got caught?" Guti asked with a savage thrust.  
"No....Guti," he whimpered, begged.  
"You know the rules, Bojan." Guti felt Bojan loosen up and give in to the invasion.  
"I didn't mean to..."  
\ "The rules say you don't play favorites, Bojan, not unless their hands are in their pockets."  
Bojan's knuckles were white, his face pressed into the desk. "Only flirt."  
"I knew you knew," Guti praised with a stroke of Bojan's cock. "What else?"  
"You never meet a client outside the club."  
"Good," Guti said. "Good boy."  
Bojan squeezed his eyes shut as Guti worked him over, cock and ass. Suddenly, there was a slap on his thigh.  
"And?"  
"Never...never fall in love."  
"Exactly," Guti said with a groan as he shot his load, withdrawing his cock, and disposed of the condom.  
Bojan panted, unsatisfied as Guti tucked himself back into his trousers.  
"Now you have tables to see to," Guti said as he checked his hair in the mirror before stepping out of the office into the crush of the club he owned.  
Shamefully, Bojan jerked his own cock to a messy completion. With a teary sniffle, he put himself back together.  
He would never learn.

 

Chapter One:

 

Cristiano blew a smoke ring out and leaned back in his chair. On the stage in the middle of the bar was a new dancer he’d not seen before, and he’d been coming to Guti’s for years. There was some thing hesitant in the way the boy moved, his light carmel skin, muscular but sensually rounded body, large, dark eyes, that Cristiano found intensely erotic.

The boy rubbed his body up the pole in front of him and flushed slightly as his gold thong did little to conceal the fact that the dancing, and the eyes on him, excited him.

The boy’s eyes flicked in Cristiano’s direction, and lingered. Cristiano flashed a bill, and the boy headed in toward him, almost seeming relieved at his interest.

Cristiano watched the boy dance to the music, hips gyrating, ass in his face. The kid was new, but he’d been trained. Cristiano laid light fingertips across his hip, and tucked the bill in his thong.

“Thanks,” the boy murmured.

“What’s your name?”

“Mesut,” the boy said, flushing.

“Hi Mesut,” Cristiano’s finger lingered again across Mesut’s thighs. “I’m Cristiano.”

“Hi.”

Cristiano produced another bill, this one larger. Mesut’s eyes got impossibly wide. Cristiano realized he was going to have to ask. “Can I get a lap dance?”

“Uh...” Mesut said, his eyes darting across the bar. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Guti, the club’s owner. He nodded at Mesut, and then raised his glass at Cristiano.

Cristiano nodded at Guti, and pushed back from the bar, spreading his knees to accommodate the young man’s lush ass.

Mesut had definitely not given a lap dance before, Cristiano thought as Mesut landed right on his cock, wriggling his hips rather uncomfortably. Cristiano grabbed Mesut’s hips and shifted him in his lap, getting Mesut angled better. With a suppressed groan, Cristiano closed his eyes and enjoyed the ride.

* * * *

Wayne slammed his glass down on the table, and John and Frank turned to look at him. “Got a problem, Wayne?”

Wayne flashed a glare at the smirk on Frank’s face. “Nothing.”

John grinned. “He’s still mad Guti quit carrying his favorite lager.”

Wayne didn’t comment a Frank and John began to banter about the best lagers. The two of them came to the club to unwind and take in a little harmless entertainment;  
Wayne came to see Cristiano.

Cristiano who was letting some slut mount him like an amusement park ride.

“I’m getting another,” Wayne said, standing abruptly.

“How many is that?” John asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” Wayne insisted, gazing steadily at John. He knew what they had to do later.

“Get me one,” Frank said, tossing a bill at Wayne.

Wayne grabbed it and headed through the crowed to the bar. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw some one else was watching Cristiano.

Jose raised his glass at Wayne, who nodded briefly. Jose headed up a syndicate on the other side of town; Cristiano worked for him, and, Wayne suspected, got fucked by him regularly. Wayne’s boss, John, respected Jose, but Wayne knew that the respect was tenuous at best.

“Another, Wayne?” asked Cesc from behind the bar.

“Two please,” Wayne said, as he dropped the bill on the bar. It was way too much of a tip, but it wasn’t Wayne’s money.

“Coming right up,” Cesc said as he turned to get two fresh pint glasses.

Wayne leaned his back against the bar and saw that the slut had finished his lap dance, and Cristiano was tucking a bill in his g-string, patting him on the ass.

“You like the new kid?” Cesc asked as he placed two full pint glasses on the bar and picked up the bill.

“Not particularly.”

Cesc watched Wayne walk away and dropped the money in the till, taking back his share. He noted the time on the clock and then turned to serve the next customer.

* * * *

Guti made his way across the room, stopping at the tables of the VIP’s, making sure everyone’s drinks were full and needs seen to. He knew where all his staff were. Mesut was making his debut on stage and already getting the interest of important people. Bojan was in the corner, giggling and letting a party of business men feed him cherries and fondle him. The other entertainment staff, as Guti referred to them, were all occupied profitably. A good Friday night.

Something in Guti’s gut made his turn at that moment, and standing in the door, talking to the bouncer, was Raul.

Guti’s heart pounded. What was he doing here? How could he? After all this time?

Turning away, Guti headed to the bar. Cesc saw him coming and frowned. “Okay, Guti?”

“No, double whiskey, straight.”

Cesc grabbed the bottle and scanned the room, wondering what had set off Guti, and then he saw him.

“Raul,” Cesc breathed, letting the whiskey flow past a double before pushing it to Guti.

Guti slugged it back. “Raul.”

Cesc had only worked in the club for about a year, but everyone knew about Raul. Raul who used to be co-owner of the club. Raul who’d disappeared in suspicious circumstances. Rumor was Guti knew why, but wasn’t talking. One of the dancers at the club had died that same week. No one was ever charged.

“You want to take off?” Cesc asked. “I can handle things?”

Guti shook his head. “I’m fine.” The harsh edge to his voice was familiar, and Cesc let it drop. He refilled Guti’s glass and moved away.

Raul had spotted Guti, but made no move to come to him. With annoyance, Guti watched Raul take a seat near the stage, and order a drink from a waiter who didn’t recognize him.

Fine, Guti thought as he put away the second drink and moved away from the bar. Raul could play whatever game he wanted. Guti wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction by reacting.

Raul had taken enough from Guti already.

 

Chapter 2

Wayne knew he was drunk when he followed John to the car, but that was the only way he handled these things any more. He knew it was necessary. He also knew there was a reason John never did it himself.

“What time did you tell him to meet us?”

Frank replied, “Midnight.”

Wayne knew it was after that. John always kept them waiting.

The ride was silent. Frank drove, as always; Wayne in the back seat. There was no need for discussions. What Ashley had done was unforgivable: you did not double cross John Terry and not expect to pay for it.

They stopped in the lot next to Ashley’s flash sports car. This had always been Ash’s downfall. He never did anything quietly.

“Hiya lads,” Ashley said with his wide grin, wearing a designer suit. Ashley never hung out at the club- thought it was too seedy. Ash took his money uptown.

Which would explain why he’d been working for Jose on the side.

Wayne put a hand on Ashley’s shoulder and forced him down into a chair.

“What’s up?” Ashley asked, his voice gone up, realizing that he was in trouble.

John grabbed a chair and turned it around, straddling it and leaning on the back. “We need to talk.”

* * * *

Bojan sat in Sergio’s lap, his head laid on the older businessman’s shoulder. His hand was on Bojan’s thigh, kneading the soft flesh there while he talked with his partners.

Bojan’s eye was always on Guti, making sure his boss didn’t get upset, but he was tired tonight, and Sergio had paid $500 up front to get Bojan’s company for the evening. It wasn’t playing favorites when they paid.

Besides, Bojan didn’t want to take anything tonight. It had been keeping him awake, and he was starting to feel awful from it, though he knew just a little hit would make a difference.

He wasn’t addicted.

“You alright, baby?” Sergio asked, squeezing his thigh.

“Uh huh,” Bojan said with a flutter of his eyelashes. Sergio had been coming in for a couple of weeks now, always wanting Bojan’s company. So far, Bojan had kept the relationship within the allowed boundaries, though last weekend, Sergio had tried to talk him into meeting him after the club closed with a wad of bills.

Sergio reached into his pocket and produced a small vial. He slipped it into Bojan’s hand. “Why don’t you go get yourself a little pick me up. I want a dance.”

Bojan’s fingers closed around it, shooting another look at Guti. But Guti seemed distracted, and one little hit couldn’t hurt.

“Okay,” Bojan giggled and expertly wriggled past Sergio’s cock to get up. He got a slap on the ass for his efforts, 

Bojan scurried to the back room where the dancers changed and hung out when they weren’t on stage. The room was empty as Guti required them to be visible at least 50 minutes of every hour on a Friday night.

Good, then he wouldn’t have to share.

Slipping into the bathroom, Bojan unscrewed the lid, and was pleased to see the vial was full. This would last him a week. He took a snort and closed his eyes as the burning sensation shot up his nose. He let out a low groan of pleasure. This was good stuff.

Bojan checked himself in the mirror to be sure tell-tale signs of powder were missing. He laughed at himself.

Damn that was good stuff.

He hid the rest deep in his bag, away from the spying eyes of the druggies on staff, and scampered back out to the club.

* * * *

Wayne wiped blood from his hands in the trashed old bathroom in the abandoned warehouse. His stomach rolled as his aching fist recalled the crunch of bones beneath it. He’d not been drunk enough.

“Oi, let’s go,” Frank called, and Wayne emerged.

Frank was climbing into Ash’s car, and Wayne got in next to John.

“You want me to drop you back at the club?” John asked as Wayne sat, eyes vacant.

“No, thanks.”

Wayne certainly didn’t want to go home. His flat was empty and quiet. Two things he didn’t want right now, but Cristiano would be gone, and even if he wasn’t, Wayne didn’t want to see who he’d go home with. It wouldn’t be Wayne.

“You alright?” John finally asked when Wayne couldn’t even look at him.

“Great,” Wayne said.

John sighed. “You know we had to.”

“I know.”

“Well, then you need to quit taking it so fucking personally.”

“I said I was fucking fine!”

John didn’t retaliate. He pulled to a stop and looked Wayne over. “Tomorrow at ten, right?”

“You know I’m never late.”

Wayne got out and John pulled away. Frank was disposing of the body and the car, and then would be back at his flat.

John smiled at the thought. Frank was always in the mood after they’d had to set someone straight.

* * * *

Sergio watched Bojan dance on the stage in front of them. Most of his business partners had wandered off, having to get their whipped asses home to their partners, but Sergio didn’t believe in partners. Not when you could get lush little boys to see to your needs for money.

He knew Bojan had turned him down last week, but Sergio was confident that the young man just needed a little chemical persuasion to get him on his knees.

To tell the truth, Sergio mostly wanted a blow job. Maybe he could get the boy to his car.

“Enjoying Bojan?” Guti asked as he slid into the empty chair next to Sergio. It was late and the club was beginning to empty. Legally, they were meant to close at two, but it had been ages since anyone had tried to enforce that at Guti’s. Though most people wandered out by three, some had to be called a cab.

“I am,” Sergio said. “Shame you don’t rent him out after hours.”

Guti chuckled. “It’s a strip club, not a whore house.”

Sergio shrugged. “You could make a lot of money.”

“I already make a lot of money. You need anything else?”

“No, thanks.”

Guti walked away. Raul had stayed for about an hour, enjoying the show and a drink, and had left without talking to Guti. But Raul hadn’t been there to talk to Guti; if he had been, he would have. He just wanted Guti to know he was back in town.

* * * *

John beat Frank home, and when Frank arrived, John was in the shower.

“Taken care of?” John asked as Frank slipped into the shower behind him, hand on hip.

“Done,” Frank said as his already hard cock pressed into John’s backside. “Not that anyone will miss the sleezeball, but tomorrow I’m going to have Joe clean out his place, make it look like he skipped town.”

The truth was, the police didn’t take any notice when John took care of his own business. Saved them the trouble. And Frank was right- probably no one would miss Ash, except maybe the half dozen whores he kept on the side, but they weren’t likely to complain.

“You do good work,” John praised as he handed Frank the soap and began to stroke his cock with a soapy palm.

“All for you, John,” Frank reminded his as two soapy fingers invaded John’s ass.

John groaned and braced a hand against the wall and spreading his legs. John was the boss, but Frank was in charge of the fucking. John never protested anything Frank wanted of him.

And he was never disappointed.

Frank’s cock rubbed along John’s ass as his fingers worked him open. He needed a quick release, but spent a few extra minutes working John inside, enjoying the sounds of his moans.

“Fuck me, Frankie....” John begged, and was rewarded with a hard cock shoved deep within him.

Frank moaned and snapped his hips, thrusting in and out of John swiftly, knowing John was taking care of his own cock, asking nothing of Frank.

John worked his cock swiftly, knowing Frank wasn’t lasting, and with a grunt, came is a splattered mess on the wall.

Frank bit his lip and thrust harder, the spasming of John’s passage around him, setting him off. He came deep in John stabbing in a last few times to drag all of the pleasure out he could.

John groaned and began to rinse off.

“More,” Frank demanded as he rinsed off and then dragged John to the bed room.

John dropped his dripping body onto the bed. Frank could have all of him he wanted.

* * * *

Getting out of the club and into Sergio’s car had been amazingly easy, Bojan thought. Usually Guti hung around the changing rooms and made sure everyone left to go home, picking one of the boys to entertain him for the evening if he was in the mood, but tonight, Guti locked the front door and himself in his office.

In his cocaine high, Bojan had begun to imagine that Sergio could get him away from this place. If he became someone like Sergio’s boyfriend, he wouldn’t have to work at all. He’d be pampered, bought pretty things, and treated like a prince.

But when Bojan climbed into the car in his jeans and t-shirt, Sergio didn’t drive him to his house. He drove him to a dark alley where they wouldn’t be seen.

“Do you like me, Bojan?” Sergio asked, dark seduction in his voice.

Bojan nodded, licking his lip. This was fine, he told himself easily. Sergio wanted to be sure of him before he’d commit to anything.

“Do you want to do something for me, Bojan?”

Bojan nodded eagerly, and when Sergio unzipped his trousers, Bojan did not hesitate to reach in an pull out Sergio’s cock. It was a nice one, full and hot in Bojan’s hand.

“Oh, you’re such a good boy. No wonder Guti doesn’t want to let you out,” Sergio sighed as Bojan leaned down and wrapped his lips around the head of Sergio’s cock. “We’ll just keep this little arrangement between the two of us, won’t we?”

Bojan didn’t reply, but ran his tongue down the side of Sergio’s cock, not having much room to get creative, but Sergio didn’t seem to want much more that the wet heat of Bojan’s mouth on his cock. Sergio laced his fingers in Bojan’s hair and guided him up and down the shaft pushing him a little further down each time until Bojan began to choke, eyes watering.

But Bojan didn’t fight back, and Sergio didn’t let up. The kid was good, using just enough pressure, but not overly enthusiastic like some.

Bojan gasped for breath, but kept working at Sergio, determined to please the older man.

Sergio closed his eyes and threw his head back. Good...this kid...was good. When he felt the release approach, he held Bojan down, head of his cock buried in Bojan’s throat as he came with a low groan.

Cum filled Bojan’s mouth, and he forced his head up so he could swallow. But Sergio’s grip had slackened, and Bojan panted for breath.

“Oh, you are a good little boy, aren’t you,” Sergio sighed as Bojan licked him clean.

Several minutes later, Sergio righted himself and petted Bojan’s head. “Can I drop you back at the club?”

Bojan shook his head, eyes wide with fear. “No...you can’t....Guti would kill me if he saw me get out of your car.”

Sergio smiled as he started his car. “Ah, Guti doesn’t need to know, does he. Just between you and me.”

Bojan beamed, happy to have pleased Sergio. “Drop me at my flat?”

“Sure,” Sergio agreed, and Bojan gave him the address of a seedy apartment building a few blocks from the club.

Bojan enjoyed the short ride. He could get used to cars like this. 

When Sergio pulled to a stop, he produced his wallet and handed Bojan several hundred dollar bills. “I hope we can do this again?”

“Sure,” Bojan said, eyes wide at the cash. He quickly stuffed it in his pocket. He looked at Sergio for a long moment, hoping for a kiss, but got nothing. “Nite.”

“Nite,” Sergio said, and as soon as Bojan shut the door, sped away.

Oh well, Bojan thought. Free coke and a grand for a blow job, not an bad evening.

 

Chapter 3

 

Mesut yawned as he entered the back door of the club Saturday afternoon. He’d not gotten home until nearly four that morning, and his roommate, a fucking health-nut lawyer, had been up at seven for a run, and upon his return, banged around the flat, making his high fiber smoothies. The roommate thought what Mesut did was “immoral”. Mesut thought being an attorney was soulless, so who was his roommate to judge. At least Mesut wasn’t lying for money.

If you’d asked him three years ago if he thought he’d end up a stripper, he’d have laughed in your face, but when med school had been a complete blow out and the bills had piled up, flipping burgers at McDonald’s wasn’t going to cut it. So when his friend Xavi had told him Guti was hiring, he’d taken the job. 

“Mesu, honey, you look like a tired out drag queen,” Xavi said as he sat before the mirror, applying eyeliner.

“Fuck off,” Meust said as he dropped his bag next to Xavi’s table and sat. 

Xavi grinned at him, make-up half on. “I saw you with Cristiano last night. You do know how to pick them.”

“Who?”

“Fuck, Mesu, that slick guy in the front row you gave the lap dance to.”

“The one that gave me a hundred bucks?” Mesut wondered. Not that writhing in the lap of that gorgeous man had been a hardship. “He can come back any time.”

“He will,” Xavi said. “He’s here every weekend. You need to be like Bo and get yourself a sugar daddy.”

Bojan had just walked in, looking as haggard as he felt. “What?”

“You are so full of bullshit, with those innocent eyes,” Xavi threw at Bojan. “Everyone saw you leave with Ramos.”

Bojan’s eyes widened. “He just gave me a ride home.”

“I’ll bet he gave you a ride,” Xavi chuckled. “Guti is going to shit a brick when he finds out.”

“Well, he’s not going to if no one tells him!” Bojan said, glaring at Xavi.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Xavi shook his head. “But sharing some of that candy Ramos gave you might shut me up a lot better.”

Mesut eyed the two. He knew that drugs were common among the dancers, but he was keeping away from that. He didn’t intend to work here his whole life, and once his debt were paid off, he was going to try to go back to college. He did not need to get messed up with drugs.

Bojan sighed, but handed over a small glass vial anyway.

“You’re a good man, Bojan,” Xavi said as he slipped off to the bathroom.

* * * *

Iker locked the safe and got out of his chair. He looked at his watch. 

"He's not coming," Jose said, reading his thoughts.

"He's never been late before," Iker agreed.

Jose sat on the sofa in his office, reading the paper. Iker was his finance guy, and Jose never bothered himself with counting money any more. 

"Think Terry figured him out?"

The question hung in the air. Jose turned a page, but Iker knew Jose had heard him. Ashley had been dealing to JT's clients with Jose's product for a couple of months, and JT wasn't stupid. The real question was did JT realize that Jose had recruited Ashley?

"Call Cristiano. He'll need to do Ash's deliveries today."

"He hates working Saturday," Iker mentioned.

"Well, he can fucking deal with it." Jose threw the paper aside and got up. "I'll be unavailable this afternoon."

Iker watched Jose leave and picked up the phone. He didn't get paid to have opinions.

* * * *

Guti sat at his desk and stared at the figures from the night before. His head was splitting, but he supposed that's what you got when you killed a bottle of Jack Daniels on an empty stomach. He supposed he was lucky he'd not awoken in a puddle of his own vomit. Again.

There was a light tapping on the door.

"What?"

Mesut peered in. "Uhm...I'm sorry..."

"What do you want?" Guti asked, forcing his tone softer.

"I...uh..." Meust shoved a wad of bills at Guti. In a rush, he explained. "I know we're supposed to give it to you before we leave but your door was shut and I didn't want to bother..." He trailed off.

Guti thumbed through the cash. "Is this all your tips?" By the rules, dancers gave all their tips to Guti, who kept half. 

"Y-y-yes," Mesut stuttered.

Guti raised an eyebrow. "This is over a grand."

"Yes?" Mesut said. He was, quite frankly, terrified of Guti. He thought maybe he'd had a bad night. Oh god, he was going to get fired.

Guti peeled off his share and handed the rest back. "That's a decent take."

"Oh," Mesut said. Was a thank you appropriate?

"Word of advice, kid," Guti said as he dropped the money in the safe behind his desk. "Most of the dancers skim off at least a hundred before they give me their take."

Mesut blinked for a moment. Was Guti telling him to cheat?

"That's why I take half. By the time they cheat me, I get about 30%, which is probably fair."

Mesut nodded. 

"Surprised your buddy Xavi didn't tell you that," Guti said. He sat back and looked at Mesut. The kid was too innocent for this place, but he could move, and the higher end clients liked a clean cut looking kid. Which reminded him he was going to have to do something about Bojan's drug habit before it got out of hand.

"Is that all?"

Guti nodded. "Cristiano should be here again tonight. Make sure he's looked after?"

"Yes, sir," Mesut said and escaped the room.

* * * *

Joe lugged the last box out of Ashley's apartment. The stuff would go into storage, and in a couple of months, someone would take it out of town and pawn it off in pieces, as not to leave a trail. Ash had several hundred grand in jewelry alone.

Minus the Rolex in Joe's pocket.

"Is Ashley moving out?"

Joe turned, and saw that Spanish kid who tended the bar at Guti's. Fuck.

"Yup," Joe said. "Got a new job. I was helping him."

"Oh," Cesc said with a frown. "I saw him the other day and he didn't mention it."

"Sudden thing," Joe shrugged. "I got to go."

"Sure, yeah," Cesc said and waited as Joe took the stairs rapidly. He glanced at the door to Ash's place, but knew it had been cleaned out already. 

But what had happened to Ashley, and which of the people he'd been double crossing had figured him out?

Cesc sent a text to his boss and got out his car keys.

"AC is dead. Please advise."

* * * *

Xavi ran his hand across his ass, but closed his eyes, knowing they were looking. They could never keep their eyes off this ass.

"You're wanted at table five."

Xavi glanced at Guti who glared at him, smacking said ass. "Who?"

"Go find out," Guti said, but winked.

Xavi turned to table five, and saw Iker sitting there. His heart lurched.

Iker was giving him an unreadable look. He never asked for Xavi any more. Not after that night. Not after...

Xavi willed his heart rate to slow- no easy feat considering the hit of that excellent coke Bojan had. Why did Iker want him?

"Sit with me?" Iker asked as he tucked a bill in Xavi's leather shorts.

Xavi nodded and positioned himself on Iker's thigh, resisting the urge to lean into him too much.

"Haven't seen you in awhile," Xavi said, angling his hip into Iker's cock just enough so Iker would be sure to know it was there.

"Been busy," Iker said as he rubbed Xavi's thigh. "How have you been?"

"Alright," Xavi agreed as he bit his lip. Iker always knew how to dig right at that muscle that seemed linked directly to his cock. Iker's fingers worked up under Xavi's short shorts, and Xavi pulled his fingers back. "You know the rules."

"I know you break the rules," Iker breathed in his ear.

Xavi was practically panting. He needed to get up, but then Iker would be mad and Guti would be mad and... "I can't Iker..."

"Sure you can," Iker said. "You want to come back to mine after you get off?"

Xavi closed his eyes and didn't protest as Iker's fingers worked up his thigh again. Iker would have already checked where Guti was. Iker knew the rules.

"Why?" Xavi asked. "You threw me out last time."

Iker's fingers stilled. "That was a misunderstanding."

Xavi opened his eyes and stared into Iker's dark brown orbs. "I said I loved you. How did you fucking misunderstand that?"

Iker looked away. "I thought you understood this was just about sex."

Xavi sighed. He knew that. He knew the minute Iker had thrown him out of the apartment. He guess he just thought that since Iker didn't pay him outside the club, that maybe...

"Fine," Xavi said, hating himself even as he said it. "Just sex."

A wide smile crossed Iker's face. "So you'll come over?"

"I get off at three," Xavi said as he wriggled into Iker's cock. "But you better pay me for this lap dance."

Iker reached for his wallet. 

Xavi swallowed hard as he worked him. Maybe he wasn't allowed to say it, but it didn't mean he didn't feel it.

* * * *

Cristiano walked into the club and stopped at the bar. 

"Evening," Cesc chirped as he grabbed a martini shaker and began to make the drink Cristiano liked. Cesc had no idea how any one drank gin practically straight, but to each his own.

Cristiano gazed around the room, seeing who was here. He was late tonight after having to clean up Ashley's mess. Fucking asshole hadn't gotten half the orders right, making Cristiano look like an utter tit. He was in a bad mood and...

Then he saw Mesut sitting in the lap of fucking Wayne Rooney. What the fuck?

Cesc saw Cristiano's expression darken. Knowing his tip was out the door, Cesc told him. "He's had Mesut all evening."

"He doesn't own him," Cristiano said and slammed cash on the bar as Cesc poured his drink.

The noise had startled Mesut over the music, and he turned to see Cristiano. He whispered something in Wayne’s ear. Wayne shook his head and worked another bill into Mesut’s thong.

“Everything okay?” Guti asked as he slid up to Cristiano.

“No, it’s fucking not. I want Mesut.”

Guti shrugged as Mesut had stood to dance for Wayne. “He’s spoken for, but I can get you someone else?”

“I want Mesut.” Cristiano drained his drink and headed in that direction.

Guti signaled to his bouncer, Alex, to keep an eye on that situation. He’d watched Wayne stare at Cristiano for ages, he wondered how this would play out.

Wayne saw Cristiano coming out of the corner of his eye, but pretended he only saw Mesut. Personally, he didn’t see what Cristiano saw in him.

“Wayne?”

Wayne made a show of tearing his eyes away from Mesut. “Yes?”

“I want Mesut.”

“Mmm, I paid for a dance,” Wayne said. “Sit down and enjoy it.”

Cristiano wanted to argue, but Mesut rolled his hips, and Cristiano sat down.

Guti sent over a fresh cocktail for Cristiano and a beer for Wayne and wondered if Wayne wasn’t a lot smarter than people gave his credit for.

Mesut finished dancing, and Cristiano waved a bill at him. Mesut settled in his lap.

“So,” Wayne said as he sipped his beer, “do you follow football much?”

Cristiano shrugged. “A little.”

“I like United. They need to replace a few players for next season, though.”

“Well, they’re never replacing Giggs, but some new talent is always good. Wouldn’t buy that kid from Arsenal, though.”

They got to chattering about football, and Mesut, bored, laid his head on Cristiano’s shoulder and fell asleep.

 

Chapter 4

 

Guti watched Mesut sleep on Cristiano’s shoulder for two hours, for free, and was angry. He’d thought the new kid was falling right into line, but apparently he was going to need a lesson in how to behave. 

Nothing was free in this club.

That and the fact that Bojan appeared to be coked out of his head this evening and probably losing half of his tips was making him even angrier.

Guti walked over to the door where two of his best bouncers, Alex and Pepe were standing. “How we doing?”

“Pretty quiet,” Alex said. “Turned away a drunk stag party.”

Guti nodded his approval. Those groups disturbed the regulars and never wanted to pay for anything. That, and they were more than likely here to abuse his dancers than enjoy them.

Guti saw Pepe eyeing Bojan who had just nearly fallen off the stage. “We need to do something, Reina.”

Pepe nodded his understanding. It wasn’t the first time they’d had to clean Bojan up. “Usual?”

“Have him back by next Friday or Ramos will have my ass.”

“And not in the way you enjoy?” Alex cracked a smile.

“Exactly.”

* * * *

Cristiano had to shake Mesut awake to get the young man off his leg that had fallen asleep. “Come on, kid.”

Mesut opened bleary eye. “Oh, god. Sorry.”

“No worries, sugar,” Cristiano said and absently handed him a bill. “I better get going.”

“So soon?” Wayne asked, though it was nearly two.

“Yeah,” Cristiano said, though eyed the other man for a moment, wondering if the broad-shouldered man would be as good of a fuck as Cristiano needed. But then out of the corner of Cristiano’s eye, he saw that JT and Frank had arrived at some point, and JT was giving him a pointed look. “See you around.”

Wayne’s gut lurched when he realized he wasn’t even going to get Cristiano’s phone number, but then he spotted JT as well and realized his companion’s reluctance wasn’t personal.

Cristiano left and Wayne purposefully ignored JT and Frank’s presence as he wandered to the bar for a last pint. He watched one of the bouncers lead an unsteady dancer off the stage, but lithe blonde kid had replaced him, and Wayne thought he might enjoy a last show before he left.

Cesc had his beer ready as he sat down. “I thought you didn’t like Mesut.”

Wayne shot him a look. “I don’t. Kid’s got bug-eyes.”

Cesc grinned and Wayne glared. The bar was quiet and Cesc leaned on it, gazing at the blond on stage. This job definitely had perks.

“So, I’m hearing rumors.”

“I don’t listen to rumors.”

“Rumors that someone offed Ashley Cole.”

Wayne tense just enough to answer Cesc’s implied question. “No idea. Don’t have much to do with the tosser.”

“Yeah,” Cesc agreed. “Was a bit too full of himself, wasn’t he?”

“Probably deserved whatever he got,” Wayne agreed.

* * * *

“I’m fine,” Bojan protested as he tried to wrench his arm away from Pepe, but was unable to.

“Let’s go check your bag,” Pepe said as he dragged the kid toward the dressing room.

“It’s not mine!” Bojan immediately replied, knowing full well what Pepe would find there.”

“Well then you have to answer to whoever owns it, because half of it went up your nose.”

Bojan struggled harder, but the bouncer was twice his size and the coke had put him off balance.

“Come on, cut it out,” Pepe said with a shake. “Guti doesn’t want you bruised. Bruised dancers don’t get paid.”

Bojan went slack with a whimper. “It was just one hit.”

Pepe snorted his disbelief. In the dressing room, he grabbed Bojan’s bag. “Need anything else?”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To detox, kid.”

Bojan whimpered. “I’m fine. This is stupid.” Fat tears began to roll down his cheeks. He had this under control. 

 

* * * *

“I’m off,” Xavi said as he handed Guti his take for the evening.

Guti counted it and returned Xavi’s half. “Iker was good to you tonight.”

Xavi shrugged indifferently. “He’s a good client.”

But Guti knew Xavi avoiding his eyes meant that the evening wasn’t over. Xavi was way too easy to read. Not that Guti could actually keep him from going home with Iker, but it annoyed Guti. The last time Xavi had gotten too involved and Iker had stopped coming for awhile, seriously cutting into Xavi’s take.

It was all about the bottom line. Raul had taught him that.

“Can you make sure Mesut sees me before he goes?”

“Sure.”

“See you Monday.”

Xavi shuffled out and Guti sat back, enjoying his drink. Cesc had the bar closed out already, so he was just waiting on Mesut. Cesc was way too efficient for the bartender at a strip club, but the kid was quiet about his past, and Guti knew people ended up at his club because something else had gone wrong, and he respected his right to keep it to himself.

“I didn’t forget,” Mesut promised as he hustled in the office. In truth, Mesut knew he’d barely made half of what he’d had the night before, mostly because he’d been asleep with Cris, and hoped Guti would be lenient.

But the look on Guti’s face said otherwise.

“Shut the door, would you?”

* * * *

Iker didn’t speak on the fifteen minute drive back to his flat. He didn’t live in the neighborhood as his profession afforded a much better lifestyle. Xavi had always been in awe of the high rise building Iker called home, though he was acutely aware of the looks he got when Iker brought him home. The doorman knew he was trash.

But Iker never treated him like that.

“Wine?” Iker asked as Xavi set his bag down in the front hall.

“Uh, sure,” Xavi said. He fidgeted, his body coming off the high from the cocaine, and wanting another fix.

Iker didn’t look at him, and Xavi wondered if he knew. Iker didn’t approve of drugs, which Xavi found hypocritical of him. Though Iker had refused to ever supply them to Xavi, even though Xavi knew he had access to all he wanted and more. He supposed that was something.

Xavi joined Iker in the kitchen, feeling underdressed in the stainless steel space. Xavi just had on jeans and a t-shirt, though Iker wasn’t dressed much better.

Iker handed him wine and gazed at him. “You look so much better without all that make-up.”

Xavi took a long gulp, not even tasting the wine. “It works in the club’s lighting.”

Iker reached out and caressed his cheek. “The club is so fake. Nothing there is real.”

Xavi paused at that, allowing Iker to trace lines down his neck and across his collarbone as he sipped his own wine. Everything was real at the club- just dressed up for effect. It was all Xavi’s reality. Iker was the one who could leave and pretend it didn’t exist. The club was all Xavi had.

“It’s more real than this,” Xavi said as he finished his glass and reached for Iker.

The words stung Iker for a moment, and he nearly pushed Xavi away, but the experienced seducer pressed into Iker, his intentions clear.

You could run a man if you paid attention to his cock, Xavi thought as his hand clenched against Iker's hip and pulled him against his hip bone, digging it into Iker's cock which had been half hard all evening. Iker had amazing control, being able to resist cumming in his pants at the club like so many other were not.

Iker was so hungry for Xavi. He'd never admit it, but he hadn't fucked anyone else since throwing him out several months ago. He didn't want anyone else. He just wanted Xavi. He'd missed him.

Iker peeled of Xavi's worn t-shirt, loving the soft cotton in his hands and the even softer skin underneath. His body was toned and beautiful; years of dancing making his muscles taut underneath carmel skin. Iker pressed the side of his face against Xavi's chest and breathed deeply. God he'd missed this.

Xavi's breath caught as Iker caressed him, worshipped him. When Iker's invited him back tonight, he'd half expected a rough fuck and cab fare home, but this was Iker all over again. The Iker he loved.

Fuck, Xavi thought as he pulled away, tears in his eyes. He couldn't do this again. He needed to keep away because he knew he couldn't have it.

"Please," Iker begged in a desperate whisper, his dark eyes full of emotions Xavi wasn't allowed to express.

Xavi took a shaky breath. "Just...bedroom," Xavi requested, shutting down all of his objections. It wasn't real, but he could pretend, if just for tonight.

Iker nodded and pulled Xavi to his room. The bed was a mess. Only when the maid came once a week to change the sheets did the bed get made. Xavi loved that bit of chaos in the generally well put together man. 

Xavi shoved off his loose fitting jeans, taking his shoes with them, and climbed, naked into the bed. He took in the scent of Iker in the soft sheets. He could live in this bed and never leave it.

Iker joined him, climbing on top of him, pressing him down into the bed with his hard length. He once again began his careful exploration of Xavi's body. Xavi closed his eyes and let the sensations wash over him. Iker knew what he liked. He knew where to touch Xavi, how much pressure to apply to the soft curves to make it feel just perfect.

Xavi was on another plane when Iker's mouth closed around his cock, and with a jolted rush, came in Iker's mouth.

"Oh."

Xavi let out the sound as Iker pulled the orgasm from him. Xavi whimpered and melted into the bed.

Iker swallowed and pulled himself to lie next to Xavi.

Xavi's breathing slowed and he snuggled into Iker, taking in his smell. After a few moments, Iker didn't move to disrobe himself, and Xavi lifted his head. "Do you want me to....?"

"No," Iker said and reached down to pull the duvet over them both. 

Xavi was confused, knowing Iker hadn't cum, but...

"Stay. Please?" Iker asked, and Xavi's stomach twisted. 

But all he could say was, "Of course."

* * * *

Bojan slumped in the passenger seat on Pepe's Range Rover. He knew where Pepe was taking him and he didn't know why. He was totally fine. Just because most of what Sergio had given him the night before didn't mean he had a problem. He just liked the high. Beside, Xavi had taken like half of it.

"Isn't there some where else we can go?" Bojan complained, resigned to his fate, but why did it have to be there? He hated it there.

"It's the only place that isn't going to lock you up for eight weeks," Pepe reminded him. Most treatment centers wouldn't take patients for short stays, especially ones in Bojan's condition.

"Eight weeks!" Bojan squeaked. "I can't lose eight weeks wages!"

"Exactly. This is all Guti's insurance covers," Pepe said, laughing at his own joke. Guti's "insurance" consisted of whatever doctor he could pay off on the side who didn't comment on how the dancers got the injuries or infections they turned up with. Personally, Pepe thought it was damn generous of Guti to see to it that all his dancers got regular screenings for VD despite the fact that none of them were allowed to have sex with any of the clients. The fact that Guti paid for Bojan's biannual detox went above and beyond.

"I'm not addicted," Bojan muttered as he stared at the streetlights passing by.

"Sure," Pepe agreed.

"I'm not."

Pepe pulled up the front drive of the treatment center. Bojan looked up at the familar white columns that framed the door and sighed. At least, he supposed, he'd get a few good nights of sleep.

Guti had called ahead and there were two orderlies there to meet them, just in case Bojan resisted.

"I'm going," Bojan muttered, docilely allowing the orderlies to guide Bojan up the stairs.

"Mr. Reina?" A tall, curly haired man appeared at the door with a clipboard. "I'm Dr. Puyol. Mr. Guttierrez said you would be signing Mr. Krkic in?"

Pepe nodded and followed the man into the building. Personally, the place gave him the creeps. All of the smells of disinfectant which did little to cover other tell tale odors of withdraw.

"Is he still just using the cocaine?" the doctor asked as they sat at a small table just inside the door.

"As far as we know. That and alcohol." Pepe had been through this routine before. Ever since they'd admitted his mother when he was twelve.

Dr. Puyol nodded and filled in the form. "When are you picking him up?"

"Friday afternoon?" Pepe said.

The doctor's sigh of disapproval said it all, but he didn't argue, especially when Pepe slid a stack of cash across the desk.

"Guti is very grateful to you for your continued help."

* * * *

Mesut nervously sat in the chair across from Guti's desk. He knew his take had been pathetic that night, and he'd actually considered putting back in some of the money he'd made the night before to make it look better, but he needed that cash for the rent which was due Monday.

Guti perched on the edge of his desk in front of Mesut, his position of dominance clear. "I see you were tired tonight."

Mesut flushed. Words began to tumble out of his mouth, "I'm sorry, Guti. He wanted me to sit with him and then he didn't want anything else and I just...fell asleep."

Guti sighed. "You know you job is to get them to want more."

"I know," Mesut said in a small voice. "I'm sorry."

"Mesut," Guti said in a silky voice, running a finger down Mesut's cheek and tipping his chin up. "I know you want to do good at this job."

Mesut nodded quickly. "I do, Guti."

Guti moved around to his desk chair and leaned back, legs splayed. "Come show me what you'd do next time, to make him want more."

Mesut swallowed hard. Was he being punished? Or did Guti honestly want to help him get better? He wasn't sure he was comfortable with this, but when Guti rubbed his thigh, Mesut got to his feet.

Guti smiled at him and pulled Mesut down into his lap. Breathing in Mesut's ear. "You're a pretty little thing."

A tremble went through Mesut. He wasn't going to pretend he didn't find Guti attractive, but he was his boss. He should not be attracted to him. Act like he's any client.

Mesut settled his ass between Guti's thighs and wriggled his ass against Guti's cock. "You want a dance?" Mesut asked in a breathy voice.

Guti's hands landed on Mesut's hips, urging him back, but Mesut pulled away.

"Mmm," Mesut said, as though reluctant to stop. It wasn't exactly an act. "You know the rules."

Guti chuckled low in his throat, but persisted. "But I thought you liked me?"

"I do," Mesut gave him another wiggle. "But you know Guti. He won't let me do it for free."

Guti let out a groan. Fuck the kid was good. In the back of his head, he knew he should stop this, because he obviously didn't need to be told. Mesut needed the money and wouldn't let him down again. But fuck- that ass...

"Oh well," Mesut said as he moved to get up. "I think that guy over there wants a dance. And he has his money out."

Guti grabbed Mesut around the waist and yanked him back. "Don't you dare stop."

Guti's hand cupped Mesut's cock, seriously against the rules, and Mesut gasped. "Guti!"

But even as the protest escaped, Mesut's hungry cock responded to the friction and he moaned, leaning back into Guti and letting his boss manhandle him.

"Jeans. Off," Guti ordered and shoved Mesut against the desk.

Mesut caught himself and yanked off his jeans and underwear, hissing as his solid cock caught on the fabric. Guti had freed his own massive cock, and then reached a hand around to stroke Mesut's needy shaft. Mesut moaned.

Dirty. Dirty. Wrong. And so so so good. The thoughts flitted through Mesut’s mind as pleasure radiated through him. Guti stroked his cock as he worked his ass open, and Mesut could have stopped if the whole club had been watching them.

Mesut briefly wondered if Guti was using a condom, but when the cock impaled him, Mesut couldn’t think anything. It was hard and it was hot and it was too big and it.

“Hard...fuck...hard,” Mesut begged. He’d never been taken like this. All those pretty boys in med school wanted to seduce you and make love, and Guti just wanted to fuck him and fuck him. “Hard!”

Guti obliged, allowing Mesut to take charge of his own cock as he grabbed his hips and pounded into him.

Mesut’s face pressed against the desk as his body jerked with the thrusts, not even having to work himself as his fist twitched with the rest of his being.

When Mesut came, he thought his soul had exploded. He tightened against Guti, causing the older man to explode inside him. Mesut could even breath for long moments as the sensations overcame him.

After what seemed like hours, Guti pulled out and tucked himself back into his jeans, but paused to lay a caress across Mesut's used ass. "You ever let a client do that to you, you better look for another job."

Mesut nodded, panting against the table, knowing it was all so wrong, but would do it again in a heartbeat.

 

Chapter 5

 

Guti unlocked the door of the club and enjoyed the Sunday morning quiet. They didn’t open until four on Sunday, not out of deference to any religious practices, but quite simply, they never had any business until then. Guti used Sundays to catch up on paying the bills and placing orders for the coming week.

Which was why he was shocked as hell to find Raul sitting at his desk.

“You’re late. You used to always be in by ten on Sundays.”

Guti took a breath before speaking. “Get out.”

“Oh Guti. Don’t you even want to know why I’m here?” Raul purred in his deep, charming voice.

“No, no actually I don’t,” Guti replied bluntly.

“Well,” Raul said, looking hurt, “You don’t really have much say in the matter.” He picked up a folded stack of papers and handed it to Guti. 

For a moment, Guti thought Raul was there to serve him with some kind of court papers, though for what, he couldn’t imagine. Anything illegal Guti had done, Raul had done worse. As he scanned the papers, he realized what it was.

“You bought my mortgage?”

Raul smiled. “I did indeed. You’re up to your balls in this place, Guti. The bank was more than happy to offload it on me.”

“I had to take out a second mortgage to buy you out,” Guti threw the papers on the desk. “Which maybe should have been your first fucking clue that I don’t want you here.”

“Oh Guti,” Raul sighed. “You just can’t forgive and forget, can you?”

“Where the fuck did you get this money?” Guti demanded, deliberately changing the subject. Some things were unforgivable. “You had nothing but the cash I gave you for your half of this club.”

Raul smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Now, as your new owner, I’m going to need to see the books...”

“Fuck off!” Guti yelled, leaning across the desk. “You own the mortgage, not me, not this club. This is my club!”

Raul gazed up at Guti for a long moment and then with a shrug, got up. “I suppose you’re right.”

Guti didn’t trust that statement for a moment. “What. Do. You. Want?”

Raul ignored the question as he came around the desk. “I’m back Guti. And you can pretend all you like, but you know it’s not over between us.”

Guti closed his eyes as he didn’t trust himself not to smack the look off Raul’s face. “It was over a year ago.”

He felt Raul’s breath on his neck. “You never even listened to my side of the story.”

Guti’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. “I know what I walked in on.”

Raul sighed. “It wasn’t what it looked like...”

“Leave!” Guti demanded.

Raul backed off. “I’m not going away.”

But Guti waited, eyes closed tight against the tears, not breathing, until he heard Raul’s footsteps recede and the front door close.

Only then did he sink down to the floor and cry.

* * * *

Xavi awoke in a cocoon of warmth. He felt his stomach rumble and he moved to get up, but an arm tightened around him.

“Stay,” Iker murmured, and Xavi stilled.

“I was just going to get breakfast,” Xavi said.

“I’ll get it for you,” Iker said. “What do you want?”

“What do you have?” Xavi asked, knowing that Iker was one of the few men he knew that kept a well stocked kitchen. At his house he’d probably be eating stale, dry corn flakes.

“I could do waffles?” Iker said with a yawn.

“That would be great,” Xavi said, his stomach aching with the prospect of good food.

“Don’t move,” Iker ordered as he got up, still in his clothes from the night before. Xavi watched him go and cuddled into the blankets.

Could they really go back? Back to before Xavi had opened his mouth and ruined it all?

* * * *

Bojan lay with his face smashed into the pillow. He was pretty sure it was some time Sunday afternoon, judging by the light coming in the window. He doubted they would let him sleep through to Monday anyway. An annoyingly cheerful orderly had just dropped off food, and the smell was turning Bojan’s stomach.

He was arguing with himself about getting up to go to the bathroom: he had to pee, but he just didn’t want to move. He rationalized that wetting the bed would not get him out of here any sooner, and moved to push himself upright.

“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day.”

Bojan just about jumped out of his skin as he turned and realized the doctor was sitting at the desk at the end of the room. “Fuck!”

Dr. Puyol raised an eyebrow at Bojan’s profanity, but Bojan merely glared back. If you didn’t want people to swear at you, maybe you shouldn’t fucking hide in corners.

“You need to eat something and have a shower. After that, the orderly will bring you to my office for your first session.”

Bojan groaned. “I fucking don’t want to have a session. You’ll want to know why I feel the need to take drugs and I’ll make up some bullshit I think you want to hear so that when someone comes to pick me up later this week, you can make yourself feel better about having tried to help a fucked up druggie stripper.”

The doctor did not react to Bojan’s outburst, merely stood up and made his way to the door. “I’ll expect you in half an hour.”

Bojan scowled but shuffled to the bathroom. His bag was lying in the corner and he picked it up, half hoping they hadn’t stolen his stash, but a quick inspection proved otherwise. He chucked it on the floor and went to take a leak.

Friday. He could make it to Friday, then surely he’d be out of here and Sergio would come to the club and get him all the coke he wanted.

* * * *

Iker carried in a tray loaded down with food. Waffles, sausage, juice, coffee, syrup, fruit- everything he knew Xavi enjoyed. Xavi had fallen back asleep waiting for Iker, and Iker gently set the tray down before crawling back into the bed.

Xavi opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at him. “Waffles?”

“Waffles,” Iker said with a smile as he caressed Xavi’s cheek.

Impulsively, Xavi leaned up and kissed Iker, but pulled away quickly. “Thank you.”

Iker smiled and pulled the tray toward them. “You’re looking so skinny.” He speared a sausage with a fork and offered it to Xavi who took a bite.

Xavi shrugged as he chewed the spicy meat. “No one cooks me breakfast any more.”

Iker ate the rest of of the sausage and used his fork to cut off a piece of waffle and dunked it in syrup. “We’re going to have to fix that.”

Opening his mouth, Xavi let Iker feed him the oversized chunk. Syrup dribbled down his chin. Iker reached over and caught it, licking the syrup off his finger. Xavi chewed and smiled.

Iker smiled back at him. 

There were so many things Xavi wanted to say. Wanted to ask. Wanted to know what Iker meant. But he let Iker over stuff him with breakfast and then cuddle him back under the covers without speaking any of it. 

* * * *

On his way to his session, Bojan followed the mute orderly with his eyes glued to the floor. He hated the prying eyes of the other inmates. Who was the new kid and why was he being escorted?

While counting out the industrial tiles, Bojan’s eyes caught on the sight of some toenails painted black, and out of curiosity, look up.

His eyes landed on an intense pair of blue eyes, and Bojan looked away, only to get caught staring at a sculpted chest, bare down to a low slung pair of jeans.

Bojan nearly ran into a wall, and the orderly grabbed his arm to steady him.

Flushing, Bojan let himself be guided to Dr. Puyol’s office.

“Bojan,” Dr. Puyol greeted him and got up as Bojan was led to a chair.

“Here,” Bojan replied as he slumped into the chair.

The orderly left, and Bojan noticed he left the door open. Another joy of rehab. Completely no privacy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Bojan said even as he noticed his hands were shaking slightly. Fine. He’d over done it a little last night on the coke, but it had been such good shit. He slid his hands under his thighs and stared at his knees.

“So why do you think you were admitted?”

Bojan looked up at Dr Puyol through his bangs. “Because I take drugs?”

Dr Puyol nodded. “And why do you feel the need to take drugs?”

“Because it feels good?”

“Do you do everything that feels good, regardless of the consequences?”

Bojan tried not to roll his eyes. “Don’t you?”

Dr. Puyol didn’t answer that, but seemed to be waiting for Bojan to go on.

“Oh yes, it’s not about you, it’s all about fucked up me,” Bojan shot at him, trying to strike a nerve. “So what? I take some drugs, I fuck people...a lot...some times for money. Why is this such a fucking big deal?”

“Because you’re killing yourself,” the doctor said simply.

“We all gotta die some time,” Bojan shot back. “Why not enjoy the ride?”

“Do you have suicidal thoughts?”

Bojan shook his head. “No. Because then I couldn’t suck any more cock.”

Dr. Puyol shifted almost imperceptibly in his seat, and Bojan knew the doctor was already thinking about Bojan sucking his cock.

Maybe that was his ticket out of here. Blow this uptight doctor’s mind with some well executed head, and Bojan could be home for dinner.

“I’m really good at it, you know,” Bojan said as he leaned forward, making eye contact.

“What?”

“Sucking cock,” Bojan said in a breathy whisper. “I love it.”

Dr. Puyol swallowed hard. Bojan leaned closer.

“You want to find out how good I am?”

But before Dr. Puyol could react, a face appeared in the door. “Doc! I need my meds and they say you said to cut me off!”

Dr. Puyol turned an annoyed look at the lanky man in the doorframe. Bojan immediately recognized him at the boy he’d been staring at earlier, and sat back in his chair with an slightly embarrassed flush.

“Gerard, you already had your dose today,” Dr. Puyol said calmly, giving no indication that he very well had just been about to let the kid in front of him blow his brains out.

“I’m an addict, doc. You can’t just cut me off,” the boy who was called Gerard said, and gave Bojan a wink.

“I think you’ll find we can,” Dr. Puyol said, his annoyance beginning to show. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

“Fine, fine,” Gerard said. “Are we still on for a fuck later?”

“Gerard!” 

With a laugh, Gerard disappeared.

Bojan sat back. “So I guess you’re already getting your cock sucked.”

 

Chapter 6

 

“Where are you going?” John asked Frank as he slid out of bed, pulling on his shorts.

“Gotta meet up with Joe today. Check over the figures and make sure he knows how to handle this week’s delivery.”

John nodded. In the demise of Ashley, he’d moved Joe up into a more hands on role in the business, which Frank had pushed for. John liked the kid a lot, but he wasn’t the brightest.

Personally, John wanted to promote Wayne, but Frank knew Wayne wasn’t his favorite person. Generally, John didn’t let Frank tell him what to do, but Frank was rather persuasive about things when he used his mouth.

“I have to get into the office,” John yawned.

“You rest,” Franks said as he leaned back into the bed to kiss John. “You are the boss, after all.”

John smiled. “You’re too good to me.”

Frank shrugged as he pulled away and picked up his jacket.

“One might start to suspect you were hiding something from me.”

Frank turned back to John, his expression a portrait of innocence. “Baby, you’re getting paranoid.”

John gazed at Frank for a long moment, and then shrugged. “It’s the only way to survive this business.”

* * * * 

Cristiano pulled his Ferrari to a stop in front of the the office building where Sergio Ramos worked. Sergio was the kind of client Cristiano felt like he should be working with, not the druggies on the street that Ashley had handled.

The receptionist waved Cristiano in as he stepped by, flashing her a smile. She smiled back cheerfully, and Cristiano wondered if Sergio hired her to keep himself from being tempted.

“Cris,” Sergio welcomed him warmly. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” Cristiano said.

“I’ve got to get out of this place,” Sergio said. “Want to go get a drink or something?”

Cristiano nodded. “Why not. Shall we take care of business, first?”

“Sure,” Sergio said, reaching into his desk and producing an envelope. “I can’t believe Jose is raising prices again.”

Cristiano shrugged as he accepted the envelope, not insulting Sergio by checking it. “Jose does what ever he wants.”

Sergio took the package Cristiano offered and locked it in his desk. “This is where you and I went wrong. We shouldn’t be giving Jose our money, we should be the ones running the show.”

“I’ve been saying that for years,” Cristiano said with a joking smile, but the statement was true. Though he looked around Sergio’s office, and knew that Sergio could more than afford the price hike. That was the thing about rich, successful men- they always thought they needed more. Why Sergio would want to get into something illegal, Cristiano wasn’t sure. Possession of drugs got you a slap on the wrist. Distribution got your ass in jail.

“The Club?” Sergio asked as his cock wondered if that tasty little thing he’d had Friday night would be around. What was his name again?

“Sure,” Cristiano agreed. They always went to the club, and Cristiano suspected it was because Sergio didn’t want to be seen with him. That or he was addicted to sex, too.

* * * *

Bojan was lying on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He just needed a little hit of something to take the edge off the boredom of this place. Gah, if they wanted you to quit taking drugs, maybe they shouldn’t bore you to freaking death.

“Hey Bobo.”

Annoyed, Bojan lifted his head to see Gerard standing in his door. “My name is Bojan.”

“Sure, Bobo. You wanna come out and play?” Gerard was still shirtless, Bojan noted as he’d not seen the guy fully dressed yet. He played his fingers down the side of his bare chest, and Bojan had to stare.

“Play what?”

“I dunno,” Gerard invited himself in and dropped himself onto the end of Bojan’s bed, making himself at home. “Strip poker? I’d offer beer pong, but apparently I’m an alcoholic.”

“They have beer here?” Bojan asked.

“No, dumb ass,” Gerard shuffled Bojan aside and took up more space on the bed. He propped up his legs and leaned against the wall. “This is rehab. What you in for, Bobo?”

“Coke,” Bojan shrugged.

“Classy,” Gerard said with an impressed look. “My parents got me in here on alcohol and marijuana.” His tone changed, and Bojan realized he was impersonating his father. “Got to get you cleaned up and back in college before you waste your life.”

Bojan’s eyes widened. “You were in college?”

Gerard tipped his head. “Yeah. Aren’t you?”

“No,” Bojan said, embarrassed. He’d not finished high school.

“I thought this was rich kid central,” Gerard said. “How’d you get in?”

Bojan, desperate to change the subject, blurted. “What college were you at?”

“Oh no, Bobo,” Gerard said as his long fingers worked up his thigh, grabbing him way too close to his crotch. “You have to tell.”

Bojan yanked his legs away, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. “Why do I fucking have to tell you anything, Geri?”

Gerard grinned and moved in closer. “Because this is a good story, I can tell. Kill someone? Got sent here by the courts?”

“No!” Bojan said and kicked out at Gerard, but the stronger boy caught his foot and held it as he moved between Bojan’s thighs.

“So tell me,” Gerard said as he rubbed into Bojan. The kid was a tasty little thing. He could get off just dry humping him.

Bojan felt Gerard’s growing erection against his leg and his own cock responded. He was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to have sex in here, and the door was standing wide open.

“Tell me, Bobo.”

“My boss made me come!” Bojan gasped as Gerard’s hand found his cock and started rubbing.

“Your boss?” Gerard asked. “What do you do?”

“I...” Bojan let out a low moan as Gerard got him angled underneath his tall, lean frame and began to work him in earnest.

“Hush, you’ll get us caught,” Gerard ordered, but even as Bojan bit his lip to comply, he couldn’t help adding. “You moan like a porn star, baby. Are you a porn star, Bobo?”

Bojan shook his head wildly, and gasped. “Stripper.”

Gerard stilled for a moment. “You’re a stripper?”

“Exotic dancer!” Bojan defended himself, thinking Gerard was offended. He tried to push Gerard off of him.

“God, Bobo, that’s so hot,” Gerard breathed into his ear. “I knew you were sexy, but...damn.” His words were punctuated with a grope, and Bojan gave way, letting Gerard work him as he rubbed off on Bojan’s thigh. “Dirty Bobo.”

Bojan swallowed hard as his pulse raced. The friction on his cock was incredible. It had been ages since anyone had focused on getting Bojan off.

“Lemme get my hand in there,” Gerard ordered, working his fingers under the band of Bojan’s pajama pants. 

With a tip of his hips, Bojan let Gerard in, and a whimper escaped as Gerard’s hand closed around his cock. 

“Good boy,” Gerard praised and began to roughly stroke him. God, his father would have a fit, Gerard jacking off a coke head stripper. But he was so hot and just gave himself to Gerard without question. Gerard had fully expected to have been thrown out long before this, only having come in to mess with him so he could tell the good doctor that he’d taken away his new play thing.

With a low gasp, Bojan came on Gerard’s palm. Gerard stilled his hand as he finished working himself on Bojan’s thigh, and tensed up, enjoying the release.

“Oh, Bobo,” Gerard sighed, “You and I are going to be such good friends.”

* * * *

“Are you sure John is okay with this?” Joe asked as Frank unloaded the boxes into the storage warehouse.

“Of course he is,” Frank lied smoothly. “We’re just going to hold this merchandise here for a couple of weeks and then move it on.”

“It’s not how he usually does it,” Joe said, nervously picking up one of the heavy boxes and carrying it in the unit.

“You know we have to change up how we do things some times. It keeps the cops off our asses,” Frank reasoned. 

“I know,” Joe said. He knew he owed Frank a lot, for the older man had been the one to bring Joe in to the gang, vouching for him when John had doubts. And now that Ashley had been taken out, Joe was getting to do his runs, and the money he was making was going to double.

“Besides,” Frank said as he closed the trunk of the car and carried the last box in, “I’m giving you the only spare key to this place, because you know I trust you to look after it, right?”

“Right,” Joe said, nodding quickly. Frank did trust him. And he was going to live up to that trust.

“You and I are good mates, right?” Frank continued as he set the box down. He looked Joe square in the eye, and Joe nodded mutely. 

God, Frank was attractive. But Frank was with John, and Joe knew he would never measure up to that.

But Frank moved closer to Joe. They were in a dark corner of the storage locker, and Joe realized it was very warm in there.

“And good mates look after each other, right?”

Joe nodded again as Frank moved even closer. He could feel the older man’s breath on his face, and he got hard just imagining what he might do.

“I think,” Frank said, laying a hand on Joe’s hip, “that you and I could become very good friends.”

Joe licked his lips nervously, and Frank took the invitation and leaned in for a kiss.

It was demanding and possessive. Joe nearly whimpered as Frank’s tongue lashed into his mouth. 

As quick as it started, it ended. Joe was breathing in a ragged gasp, but Frank was calm and collected.

“I thought you were with John,” Joe said, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Oh, I suppose I am,” Frank agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you and I can’t have a little fun. As long as John doesn’t find out. You like to have fun, don’t you Joe?” His words were punctuated with a grope of Joe’s hard cock.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Frank said, pulling away and leaving Joe wanting. “We better get back to the office before John starts to suspect. We can’t have that.”

“No,” Joe said, shaking his head and willing his cock to behave.

“Yes,” Frank said as he led the way back to the car. “I think we can be very good friends.”

* * * *

Cristiano assumed that Sergio was going to drop his crazy idea about taking over Jose’s business, but when they were seated at the club, sipping cocktails and watching the show, he brought it up again.

“We could so do this,” Sergio said. “Use my office to filter things through. I’ve got the local police in my back pocket already, ignoring my employees who aren’t all, shall we say, legal citizens.”

Cristiano took a sip of his drink and watched Mesut twirl around a pole. “I suppose we could. But Jose has powerful friends.”

“Who?” Sergio asked. “You’re his top man. And who is that other guy he has working the office.”

“Iker?”

“Yeah, would he come with us?”

“Against Jose?” Cristiano asked. “I don’t know.” He and the quiet bookkeeper didn’t much talk to each other, but he knew Iker was uneasy about the entire business. “I think he’s pretty loyal to Jose.”

“Everyone has a price,” Sergio shrugged. 

Cristiano couldn’t argue that. But men you only controlled with money could be bought out from under you at any time. “We’d never get Esteban.”

“Who?”

“Esteban- Jose’s importer,” Cristiano said. “He runs the merchandise out of South America for Jose. And he’s very, very loyal.”

“Hmm,” Sergio said. “I wonder where that kid I had the other night is?”

Cristiano wondered at Sergio’s shift in attention, but then again, you put enough stuff up your nose, your brain started to fry. “Bojan?”

“Is that his name? With the pouty lips and the bedroom eyes?” Sergio asked.

“I think so.” Cristiano straightened up when he saw Wayne walk in. A quick survey of the room told him that John and Frank weren’t around. Maybe he could...

“God, he sucked my cock like you can’t even believe,” Sergio sighed.

Cristiano shook his head as he caught Wayne’s attention. “I thought that was against the rules.”

Wayne started over with a smile as Sergio proclaimed. “Baby, when you got the money, nothing is against the rules.”

 

Chapter 7

“Hi,” Wayne said.

“Sit,” Cristiano ordered. “Wayne, do you know Sergio?”

Wayne nodded and Sergio eyed Wayne for a moment. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sergio slid out of his chair as Wayne sat down next to Cristiano. “What’s his problem?”

“Cocaine?” Cristiano replied with a shrug. “He thinks he’s going to take Jose down and run the business.”

Wayne let out a snort. “How much coke is he on?”

“None at the moment as far as I know,” Cristiano said as Mesut made his way to their table. 

Wayne held in a sigh. He knew Cristiano liked the kid, but he didn’t want to be bothered right now.

“Hi,” Mesut said as he wiggled his ass in Cristiano’s face.

“Hey baby,” Cristiano purred as he copped a feel. “You wanna sit on my lap?”

“Maybe,” Mesut teased, but Cristiano produced cash, and Mesut sat.

“So,” Cristiano said as he stroked Mesut. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Wayne asked. “Not much. Work.”

Cristiano nodded. “I’ve got tickets to the United match tomorrow night, if you want to go?”

“Sure,” Wayne agreed with a happy lurch.

“Some clients have a suite. Jose lets them pay with tickets some times,” Cristiano said. “Can I pick you up?”

Wayne nodded. Mesut was wriggling in Cristiano’s lap, and commandeered his attention. Cristiano began teasing Mesut with cash, and Mesut got very friendly indeed.

* * * *

Esteban stretched his neck and realized how freaking tired he was. After a ten hour run out of Columbia, he just wanted to crash some place, but Jose was being chatty, and Esteban didn’t want to be rude.

“Can I take you dinner and maybe to the club?” Jose offered, and Esteban was forced to accept. He’d never been to the club before. Not that he didn’t appreciate a pretty boy, but he tended not to socialize with the people he worked with. 

“So,” Jose asked as they got in his car. “What do you think about Cristiano?”

“What do you mean, what do I think?”

“I was just wondering how loyal you think he is?”

Esteban raised an eyebrow. “Are you getting paranoid?”

Jose shrugged. “Is it paranoia if they’re really stabbing you in the back?”

“I don’t think he is,” Esteban said. “But you’ve been good to him, and if you ever gave him reason to doubt you trust him, he might.”

Jose nodded. “I can see that.”

“Not everyone is quite as easily bought as Ashley,” Esteban reminded him.

* * * *

Dr. Puyol checked his watch and sighed. Gerard was late, again. He knew the young man was due to be released at the end of the week, but he didn’t really think he was ready to go back out into the world. He’d be at the first bar he saw, on the phone to his dealer. The kid has no respect for authority, and, quite frankly, no respect for himself.

He stood, knowing he could send an orderly to find Gerard, but wanting to make a point. Gerard thought very little of adult men, after the way his rich father tried to buy him off with cash and cars rather than his time and then turned around and threw the kid in rehab when he didn’t behave when a few hours a day of his own time would have gone miles to preventing Gerard’s addictions. 

Gerard wasn’t in the community room, so with some trepidation, Dr. Puyol made his way to Gerard’s room. The last time he’d walked in on the kid wanking off, and Gerard had proceeded to announce to God and everyone that Dr. Puyol had blown him.

The door was closed, and Dr. Puyol knocked.

“Don’t come in, my cock is in Bobo’s ass!”

There was a giggle and a shuffling of bed clothes.

Dr. Puyol sighed. “Gerard, you’re due for your session.”

“Come on, Doc, I need to cum in this pretty little ass. Can’t I wank you later?”

“Gerard.”

The door yanked open, and there was Gerard in his boxers. Bojan was on his bed, blanket pulled up to his chin. He may or may not have been naked.

“Hiya Doc,” Gerard grinned.

“You know you’re not supposed to have visitors in your room with the door closed,” Dr. Puyol said with a stern look.

“If we leave the door open, people want to watch!”

Bojan giggled again, but he avoided looking directly at the doctor. Dr. Puyol wasn’t really that bad of a guy, but Gerard seemed to hate him for some reason.

“Five minutes, in my office, or you’re spending the rest of the day in isolation.”

Gerard groaned and shut the door in the doctor’s face.

Bojan’s eyes were wide. “Are you going?”

“Yes,” Gerard sighed and looked around for his pajama pants. “He’s already threatened to keep me another four weeks, and I fucking gotta get out of here.”

“I think I’m leaving on Friday,” Bojan said.

“How’d you swing that, Bobo? You’ve only been here since Sunday,” Gerard asked as he pulled on his pants.

“Guti only pays for a week, and then I have to work.”

“Guti owns your strip club?”

Bojan nodded and fiddled with the frayed edge of the blanket. “We lose too much money if I don’t work the weekends.”

“You a good stripper, Bobo?” Gerard asked with a leer. 

“Best in the club!” Bojan defended himself.

“I might have to come by and see you.”

Bojan paled. “Uh...you can’t.”

“Why not?” Gerard frowned. “I got money.”

“Well...uh...”

“You got a boyfriend there, Bobo?”

“No!” Bojan insisted. “Guti just doesn’t like...friends to visit.”

“Aw,” Gerard said as he leaned down to fondle Bojan. “Am I your widdle friend?”

Bojan squirmed and blushed as Gerard manhandled him. “No!”

“It’s okay, Bobo. We’re friends. And maybe we can be friends who fuck on the outside?”

“Sure,” Bojan agreed, but wondered if that was really such a good idea.

* * * *

Cristiano ran out of cash early that evening as Mesut was being very, very friendly. With a smile, Cristiano realized Guti must have told Mesut to work him over good. Not that he didn’t appreciate the attention, but it was eleven and too early to go home if no one was going to be sucking his cock.

He glanced across the table at Wayne as he gently pushed Mesut off his lap. “Thanks, baby.” He patted Mesut’s ass and slid his last bill into Mesut’s g-string.

“Leaving?” Mesut asked with a pout.

“I think so, baby,” Cristiano said. He knew enough not to ask Mesut to join him somewhere else. He saw Iker with his favorite plaything in his lap, knowing full well that Iker fucked him on the side. Titillation was one thing: Cristiano didn’t pay for sex.

Mesut cast a hopeful glance at Wayne, who glared him away from the table.

“You want to get out of here?” Cristiano asked Wayne. Sergio had disappeared an hour ago, leaving the two men to chat.

“Sure,” Wayne said.

As they got up, Cristiano saw Jose and Esteban walk in. 

“Fuck,” Cristiano muttered. “We can’t leave together.”

Wayne nodded his agreement. “I’ll get another pint. Text me when you get home and I’ll come over?”

Cristiano agreed, appreciating that Wayne didn’t have to be told the danger that both of them would be in if their bosses knew they were friendly.

Cristiano stopped to chat to Jose on the way out, not having any idea what he’d really said. His mind was on Wayne, wanting the man to fuck him, but knowing it was a bad idea.

As he left, he knew he could just not text Wayne. Lost his number. Jose asked him to do some work.

But he’d invited Wayne to the game tomorrow.

And he wanted him.

Wanted those rough, manly hands on his ass. Wanted that cock to possess him. 

Cristiano tried to breathe. Where had this all come from? Cristiano didn’t mess around with personal relationships. He picked up nameless strangers for a fuck and went home alone.

The whole drive home, Cristiano told himself he wasn’t going to do it. 

But when he pulled his car into the garage, he sent the text with his address.

And went inside to change the sheets.

* * * *

“Well, he’s up to something,” Esteban said as his eyes adjusted to the light in the club. Up on stage a couple of boys were dancing, pawing each other to the delight of several drunk men in the front row.

“Hmm,” Jose agreed as his eyes flicked to Wayne who was chatting with Cesc at the bar. “I’ll have a word with him tomorrow.”

“Jose,” Guti greeted him, his eyes glazed with drink. Jose had heard a rumor that Raul was back in town and thought maybe that had something to do with Guti’s state.

Jose let Guti give him a hug, and introduced Esteban.

“Good to have you here,” Guti said, his eyes roving over the young man. 

“Nice to meet you,” Esteban said, flushing under the blond’s attention.

“Guti owns the place,” Jose told him.

“So anything you need, you let me know,” Guti said as he leaned into Esteban.

“Thanks,” Esteban said as Jose led them away. Even though Guti was drunk, something about the man intrigued Esteban. There was pain in his eyes like Esteban had never seen before.

* * * *

Gerard laid with his head hanging off the end of the bed. He just wanted a fucking drink. He was tired of feeling like himself. Tired of the doc trying to making him admit that his problems with drink had anything to do with his father. That fucking prick got no credit for anything about Gerard.

It was late at night. The crying from some of the other patients kept Gerard up, and the doc had refused him any sleeping pills.

Stupid Dr. Puyol, Gerard thought. The worst of it was that the doctor wouldn’t fuck him and Gerard wanted it from him. Sure, he liked to fuck, and as soon as he could get Bojan to loosen up, he was going to get him hard, but Gerard liked to be fucked too. 

The doctor was hot. Not in the conventional way, Gerard supposed, but something in the perfect tone of his body that was obvious, even under his lab coat, made Gerard just want to bend over his desk and let the doctor pound him in the ass.

Gerard didn’t even realize his hand was on his cock until the warm dribble of pre-cum hit his thumb. He bit his lip.

Fuck it, Gerard thought as he reached under his bed for the lotion. Might as well make it comfortable.

But as Gerard jerked himself off, he couldn’t help but feel a little empty inside.

Sex was easy. Letting someone care about you was hard.

* * * *

“John and Frank arrived. I can’t come,” Wayne replied to Cristiano’s text. “Still on for the game tomorrow?”

Cristiano stared at the phone. He wanted to throw it. Scream in frustration, but he knew he couldn’t. 

He breathed and held back the text, begging Wayne to come anyway. Didn’t matter how late. Just come.

“See you at 6.”

 

 

Chapter 8

Joe sat nervously in John’s office. The boss had called him in this morning, and kept him waiting. He could never tell from John’s voice on the phone if he was upset with him or not. Was he fucking up his new duties?

John strolled in a good half hour after he’d asked Joe to be there, watching the younger man sweat. Good. He should be sweating.

“Alright?” John asked with a smile, setting his coffee cup on the desk between them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joe said. “Things went smoothly this morning. No troubles at all.”

“Good,” John smiled.

Joe saw something dangerous behind that smile, and his stomach sank. “So what’s up?”

“Well, we have a bit of a problem.”

“We do?” Joe tried to keep his breathing steady. John knew what he and Frank had been up to. Frank had said it wasn’t a big deal. He said John knew about it. He said...

“Yes,” John said as he got up from behind the desk and began to pace. He was quiet for a moment, as though trying to put his thoughts together, but Joe had worked for John long enough to know he was trying to intimidate him.

It was working.

John paused and leaned on the desk “Frank is a complicated man.”

Joe nodded.

“And, I’m sure you know, he and I have had a relationship for a long time.”

“Sure, yeah,” Joe said. It was hardly a secret that John and Frank were lovers. 

“But Frank...his eye tends to wander.”

Joe’s heart rate sped up. This had nothing to do with the storage locker.

“And I get jealous, Joe,” John said as he laid his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Very jealous.”

Joe couldn’t even speak. John’s fingers dug into him, and his eyes bored into Joe’s.

“And the last time Frank’s eye wandered, it was to Ashley. And we know what happened to him.”

* * * *

“If that fat man in the front row tries to grope me again, I swear to god, I’m going to vomit on him.”

Mesut chuckled as Fabio stalked back into the dressing room, peeling cash out of his gold shorts. “Are we allowed to only dance for the hot ones?”

Fabio rolled his eyes as he counted up his take. “Don’t even talk to me, Mesut. You spend most of your evenings in the lap of Cristiano who I’d let grope me for free.”

“The fat ones pay better,” Xavi shrugged. “If some fat man wants to get me a hundred bucks to rub my cock, I’ll let him.”

“Gross,” Mesut said with a grimace, though he knew Xavi did have a point. The trick was to close your eyes and imagine it’s some hot guy groping you. Mostly, he imagined it was Guti.

“So says the guy who’s boyfriend comes in and pays for a date!” Fabio shot at Xavi as he rubbed a towel over his sweaty blond hair.

“Iker’s not my boyfriend!” Xavi protested, but even Mesut snorted at that.

“Xav, baby- he makes you breakfast in bed. He’s your boyfriend.”

Xavi glared at Mesut. That hadn’t been meant to be shared.

Mesut rolled his eyes. “You have to get yourself a hot one for your own,” he advised Fabio. “That Ramos guy is pretty hot.”

“And he always has really good drugs,” Xavi added.

“Didn’t Bojan stake a claim on him?”

“Bojan’s not here,” Xavi reasoned. “If that little coke head can’t handle himself, he doesn’t get to claim anything.”

“Ramos likes blonds. He always loved Fernando,” Fabio pondered. 

“Who?” Mesut asked.

“Fernando Torres- he used to work here,” Xavi said. “Sweet kid, kind of a shame what happened to him...”

“Hey!” Guti stuck his head in the door. “I’m not paying you ladies to gossip! Mesut, Xavi, let’s go!”

Mesut got up. “Cristiano here?”

“No,” Guti said, “But we’ve got a good crowd who’d like to see some ass.”

“Change into the thong, Fabio!” Xavi said as he and Mesut followed Guti out.

* * * *

At half time of the match, Wayne sat watching Cristiano interact with the other people in the suite. There was no doubt that the man was gorgeous, but that really wasn’t what made it impossible to take his eyes off of him. There was just something about him, his smile, his laugh- Wayne couldn’t be sure, but it was entrancing.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t gone over to Cristiano’s last night. He wanted him. But he was some how afraid if he let himself touch Cristiano- he’d disappear.

“Having fun?” Cristiano asked as he took a seat next to Wayne, resisting the urge to rub his thigh. Wayne had avoided making physical contact with him all evening, but Cristiano couldn’t figure out why. No one here would care. Maybe he’d misread the other man’s interest. Maybe Wayne just wanted to be friends.

“I am, thank you,” Wayne said as he drank his beer and avoided eye contact with Cristiano. The proximity was killing him. 

“I’ll be right back,” Cristiano said as he got up to go to the bathroom. It was better this way anyway. He did not want or need a relationship.

The bathroom was in the suite, just a single room, and Cristiano ducked in. The half was nearly over, and the second was promising to be a good one.

When he was done, he started to pull the door open, but it pushed in at him. Startled, Cristiano stepped back, and Wayne pushed in, closing the door behind him. Before Cristiano could even form a question, Wayne was on him, grabbing his shoulders and kissing him roughly.

Cristiano didn’t even consider protesting as Wayne slammed him up against the wall and pressed into him. He tipped his head and opened his mouth and let Wayne ravish him.

After several long, wonderful minutes, there was a knock on the door.

Startled, Wayne pulled back. “Just a minute!”

Cristiano, panting, licked his lips to savor the taste of Wayne. Beer and man.

“Sorry,” Wayne muttered, still unable to look at Cristiano properly.

“No,” Cristiano insisted, pulling Wayne back to him. “I want it. Just...not here?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Wayne said as he fought Cristiano’s embrace.

“Wayne.” 

He paused, looked up at Cristiano.

“I want you. God.” Cristiano’s whole body screamed for Wayne. “Please.”

Wayne nodded. “Your place?”

“Yes,” Cristiano said. “And I’m driving, so you’re not getting away from me this time.”

“I want you so much it hurts,” Wayne admitted, hating himself for being vulnerable.

“Me too,” Cristiano whispered. “Me too.”

* * * *

Guti watched Mesut rub against Xavi, teasing some men in the front row and smiled. Damn that kid was good. Really good.

He turned away, knowing he really should not have fucked the kid the other day, but hadn’t been able to help himself. What Guti really needed was a fuck buddy. Someone to get him off when he needed it, but not to complicate his life.

He spied Jose’s pilot, Esteban, back again tonight, and nearly licked his lips. The curly haired kid was hot- seriously hot, and Guti could see himself having some of that.

Esteban looked over at Guti and smiled, and Guti headed toward him. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I am,” Esteban said and gestured for Esteban to sit with him. “This is a great place you run here. A lot of places I’ve been, the dancers aren’t nearly as sexy as yours.”

“Thank you. I tend not to hire anyone I wouldn’t want to fuck myself.”

Esteban laughed. “Then you have very good taste.”

“I like to think so.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he say Cesc getting slammed at the bar. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew he couldn’t let Cesc deal with it alone. “If you can excuse me for a minute. Can I bring you back a drink?”

“Sure,” Esteban said. “Whiskey.”

“Whiskey it is,” Guti said as he got up. As he crossed the bar, he saw Raul had just walked in. Raul smiled at him, and Guti turned away. 

Fucking hell, Guti thought. Why tonight?

Cesc was very grateful for the help as Guti began to serve up beers and mix up cocktails. 

The rush was brief, and soon Cesc was back under control. “Thanks,” he said to Guti who was already looking back over at Esteban.

Who was sat next to Raul.

“Fuck,” Cesc breathed, but Guti had already drunk the whiskey he’d poured for Esteban and stormed away in the direction of his office.

“Who’s zat?” slurred Joe who was perched at the end of Cesc’s bar, squinting over.

“Raul.”

“Oh,” Joe said, knowing the name. “They never did find out what happened to David, did they?”

Cesc raised an eyebrow and and grabbed Joe’s empty pint for a refill. “I thought he died of an overdose.”

Joe snorted. “That’s what they said anyway. Everyone knows it was more than that.”

Cesc focused on the pint and pushed down the pain bubbling inside him. “What does everyone say?”

“Fuck, Cesc, you’re the bartender. I thought you knew everything.”

Cesc put on his grin and pushed the beer at Joe. “How do you think I know everything? People get drunk and tell me.”

Joe giggled. “You wanna know something else?”

“Sure,” Cesc leaned on the bar and pretended to watch Xavi rub his crotch into Mesut’s ass while fat businessmen pushed bills into his shorts.

“Fucking John Terry is a pussy.”

That got Cesc’s attention. “Don’t you work for him?”

Joe snorted. “I work for Frank. John thinks he’s in charge, but Frank shoves his cock into John, and John lets him do anything. Do you know we have an entire warehouse full of H down at the docks that John doesn’t know anything about?”

“Really?” Cesc wondered. “Where abouts?”

Joe grinned. “Can’t tell you that, can I?”

“Suppose not,” Cesc laughed to let Joe know he was kidding around. 

“But John yeah. Frank is fucking half the town and John thinks he can kill off all Frank’s lovers, he’s got another thing coming.”

And Cesc knew who had killed Ashley. If Joe kept running his mouth like this, Joe wasn’t going to be long for this world, either. “Last one,” Cesc said. “I’m cutting you off.”

“Aw,” Joe complained. “Don’t suppose you want to meet me after you get off?”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Cesc said, and in truth, he wouldn't have minded, generally. “But I can’t mix business and pleasure, can I?”

Joe sighed. “Damn.”

* * * *

Sergio was watching the blond kid work his round, tight ass and beckoned him over. Fabio slid over to Sergio’s table and laid down across it, his ass at Sergio’s eye level.

“Hi,” Fabio purred as Sergio worked a bill into his g-string.

“You wanna sit here with me?” Sergio asked, waving a larger bill.

“I do,” Fabio said, full of lusty desire that wasn’t faked. That man was sexy as hell. No wonder Bojan wanted him. Bojan was going to have to get in line. 

Sergio spread his thighs and invited Fabio between them. Fabio settled and worked himself against Sergio. 

“God, you have a massive cock,” Fabio sighed as it pressed against his ass. “Do you like to use that massive cock?”

Sergio bit his lip as he felt himself get hard against him. “What time do you get off?”

“Soon,” Fabio said. “You want to show me that cock somewhere private?”

“Yes,” Sergio breathed into his neck. “I want it inside you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Fabio moaned as Sergio rubbed his thighs. “Deep inside me.”

“Where?”

“Now now,” Fabio chided him. “You better make this look good for Guti.”

Sergio willingly slid several more bills into Fabio’s pants. “Where?”

“Get us a suite at the Conrad,” Fabio ordered. “Pamper me and you can put that cock anywhere you want.”

“Okay,” Sergio agreed. “Okay.”

“Bring me some candy, too, would you, big boy?”

“Okay,” Sergio said, knowing he had his stash in the car.

“Meet you there in an hour?” Fabio said with one last grind as Sergio emptied his pockets into Fabio’s pants.

“Done.”

Fabio pulled away. “Looking forward to that cock,” he said with a meaningful glance.

“It’s all yours, baby.”

* * * *

Cristiano and Wayne stayed for the end of the match. Sat next to each other, they commented on the game, but the sexual energy between them was intense. Cristiano couldn’t look at Wayne and keep his hands to himself.

By the time they got back to Cristiano’s flat, he was ready to explode. Kicking the door shut, Cristiano dropped his keys and let Wayne grab his waist and press himself against Cristiano.

All Cristiano had to do was respond. Wayne tore at his clothes, certainly leaving bruises on his hips and waist, but the rougher Wayne got with him, the more turned on Cristiano became. He’d never felt this out of control in his life.

They made it as far as the couch. Cristiano draped himself over the back, ass high. “Please....”

Wayne pawed at him, stroking Cristiano’s smooth ass with one hand as fingers pushed into him with the other. Wayne had no thoughts but to be amazed that Cristiano let him do whatever he wanted.

Made for you, flitted through Wayne’s mind as his cock slid home. Oh god that was tight. Hot.

The fucking was harsh, but the pleasure was immeasurable. Wayne felt Cristiano fall apart underneath him. He didn’t want it to stop. What if Cristiano never let him do this again. He kept up the fucking until he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

White hot pleasure shot through his entire being. Wayne cried out, near to sobbing as he fucked Cristiano until he fell limp.

Somehow, Wayne gather Cristiano on to the couch, never mind their sticky bodies on the white suede. Cristiano let himself be held, but fear filled him.

This was too much.

And worse...

“We can never let anyone know about us,” Cristiano whispered, not even sure Wayne was still awake. “Not Jose, not John...”

“I know,” Wayne said as his arms tightened. “But I need this.”

“So do I.”

 

Chapter 9

Sergio panted, trying to catch his breath as Fabio slid out of the bed.

"Where you going?" Sergio asked as he watched the lithe young man make his way to the bathroom.

"Gotta work at six, baby," Fabio said sweetly as he disappeared.

Fabio had been at Sergio's house since the other night when Sergio had brought him home after their marathon night of sex at the hotel. The man knew sexual tricks Sergio hadn't even dreamed of, and he couldn't get enough of him.

Sergio looked at the clock. It was Friday and he'd worked the morning, but when Fabio had called, demanding to be taken to lunch and shopping, Sergio hasn't been able to say no. Several thousands in new clothes later, and a perfect fuck after, Sergio had been hoping to keep the young man in his bed a little longer. He closed his eyes.

"You could come by the club tonight," Fabio said, waking Sergio who'd drifted off. Fabio was drying himself off, rubbing at himself in a way that was making Sergio hard again.

"I could," Sergio said, and knew he would. Even the thought that Fabio was going to work to press that body against other men made Sergio seethe with jealousy. He reached for Fabio who stayed teasingly far away.

"Can I get some cash for a cab?" Fabio said as he pulled on a pair of perfectly fitted trousers, sans underwear. "I need to drop by my place on the way to work."

"I could take you," Sergio offered.

"I know you could, baby," Fabio said with a flutter of his eyelashes. "But I want to remember you lying there naked."

Sergio bit his lip. "Get back in here and you don't have to remember."

"You're so bad." Fabio buttoned up his shirt. "But I can't be late. Guti would kill me if he knew I was here."

"Guti must know," Sergio said. 

Fabio shrugged. "He pretends he doesn't, and we respect his wishes by not flaunting it in front of him."

Sergio could respect that. "Cash is in my wallet."

"You're so good to me," Fabio said, pausing to kiss Sergio before peeling far more cash than he needed for a cab out of his wallet. He also reached into the drawer beside the bed and took to vials of coke.

"Planning a big evening?" Sergio raised an eyebrow. 

Fabio gave Sergio another kiss and groped his ass. "You don't mind if a share a little with the other boys, do you?"

"I guess not," Sergio allowed.

"Thanks, baby."

"You're coming back after work, right?"

"Already dreaming of that cock."

* * * *

Pepe pulled up in front of the rehab center, and Bojan was bouncing on his toes at the front door. As soon as he saw Pepe, he scampered down the stairs. 

"Doctor wants to talk to you," Bojan said as he climbed in.

"About what?" Pepe asked with a sigh.

"Dunno," Bojan said as he grabbed the Mountain Dew Pepe had been drinking. "Can I?"

"Sure," Pepe allowed as he got out, leaving the car on. He climbed the stairs and found Dr. Puyol waiting for him.

"I think he needs to stay," Dr. Puyol said bluntly.

"I know," Pepe said. "How is he?"

"He's okay," Dr. Puyol said. "But he's no where near broken of the addiction. He has a lot of anger."

Pepe shrugged. "I've met his parents; I'd be angry too."

Dr. Puyol raised an eyebrow.

With a sigh, Pepe began to tell Dr. Puyol about Bojan's parents. His father had been a small time drug dealer who was in and out of jail Bojan's whole childhood. Bojan was the middle child of three, his older brother having left town at sixteen and never come back, his younger brother was in jail for armed robbery. His mother was a waitress in a small cafe, struggling to make ends meet Bojan's whole life. As far as Pepe knew, Bojan didn't speak to any of them.

"I think it would be a positive step for Bojan to stop working at the club," Dr. Puyol said carefully, not wanting to accuse Guti of anything.

Pepe let out a laugh. "Right. Guti is not paying for his rehab to have him flake out on the club. Besides, kid like that has no actual skills. If men are willing to pay him to grope his body, he better stick with it. At least it's not illegal."

Dr. Puyol held his tongue. He nodded and handed Pepe the discharge papers.

Pepe signed them and walked back to the car. Bojan had finished his bottle of Mountain Dew and changed the radio station.

Rubbing the back of Bojan's head affectionately, he asked, "Want to go get something to eat?"

"Fuck yes."

* * * *

Frank had a problem. Someone had tipped off the cops about the stash they had in the storage locker, and there were cops staking out the place. Of course, the locker could not be traced back to anyone in the organization, but it also meant the merchandise could not be recovered without getting busted.

"I don't know how they found out," Joe said earnestly. "Someone had to have ratted us out."

Frank shot Joe a glare. "But who? Only you and I knew."

"I didn't tell anyone, Frankie," Joe insisted. "You know you can count on me."

Frank nodded. Joe wasn't the brightest, but he was loyal. "We might have been followed."

"Well," Joe said, looking nervous. "John...uh..."

Frank's face darkened. "John what?"

"He suspects we're hiding something from him."

"John trusts me," Frank dismissed him. They were in Frank's flat, and Joe kept looking hopefully at the door.

Joe shook his head. "He called me into his office. Wanted to know what was going on between us."

"What did you tell him?" Frank said, grabbing the front of Joe's shirt.

"Nuffin, Frankie, I swear it. I told him that you and I were working together, but you were just showing me how to do the deliveries and all that!" 

Frank shoved Joe away. "I fucking have too much to deal with right now."

"I know Frank," Joe said. "What can I do to help?"

Frank eyed him. "Suck my cock."

"Okay," Joe nodded quickly as he dropped to his knees in front of Frank.

Frank hadn't been serious, but when Joe unzipped his trousers and reached inside, Frank wasn't going to complain. He rubbed the top of Joe's head. "I can always count on you, Joe."

"I'd do anything for you," Joe promised as he stroked Frank's cock. He didn't think he'd said anything, but he'd been really drunk the other night at the bar, and remembered a long chat he'd had with Cesc. But Cesc worked at Guti's. He knew better than to run his mouth to the wrong people, right?

Joe opened his mouth to take the head of Frank's cock in his mouth, cupping his balls in his right hand. He teased the head with a swipe of his tongue as he rolled the heavy sacs in his hand.

Frank's problems evaporated from his mind as Joe wrapped his left hand around the base of his cock, the massive member too big for Joe to take all the way, but the young man worked the head deep in his throat while his hand twisted around the base, slicking it up with his spit. Fuck yes, Frank thought as the pleasure built.

But Joe didn't suck him off swiftly like some. Ashley had always seemed to be going for the world record for fasted blow job ever given. Joe drew it out, gentle pressure, flicks of his tongue as the pleasure built deep inside Frank.

Frank was going to have to protect Joe from John. Make sure his lover didn't have any other reason to suspect them.

"Harder," Frank requested, coming close to the edge, but needing a little more to get him over.

Joe stepped up his efforts, eyes welling up as he shoved the cock too far down his throat, but knowing Frank loved it, kept it up.

Grabbing the top of Joe's head, Frank buried himself deep, shooting his load down Joe's throat. He held it there a long moment, and then released him.

Joe coughed and sputtered, but didn't complain as Frank moaned blissfully.

"You're a good lad," Frank praised.

Joe wiped his face with the back of his hand. "You're good to me."

* * * *

"Well, look what the cat drug in," Fabio smacked the back of Bojan's head as he entered the dressing room.

"Hey," Bojan said.

"Where the hell have you been?" Xavi demanded of Fabio. "I thought we were meeting up yesterday."

"Oh, sorry," Fabio said, having totally forgotten he and Xavi had plans. "Got myself a sugar daddy."

Xavi laughed. "Did he buy you those clothes?"

Fabio did a twirl in his new threads. "Bought me this and more. He's rich and a good lay."

"Damn. If you tell me he gets you blow, I may have to kill you and take him off your hands," Xavi joked.

"No need," Fabio said as he dropped a vial in Xavi's hand. "I can share."

Bojan spied the drugs, and his craving kicked in worse than he'd had all week, but before he could ask, Xavi closed his hand.

"Fuck it, Bo, you haven't been out of rehab for a day," Xavi admonished him. 

"I don't want it," Bojan lied. "I'm clean now."

Fabio snorted. "Have we heard that before, Xavi?"

"I am," Bojan defended himself. "Besides, I don't know why I keep getting sent to rehab. You two put more up your nose than I do."

"But we can handle it," Fabio said. "You turn into a little asshole who falls off the stage."

Bojan turned back to his mirror and started to apply his eyeliner, but even as he did, he realized his hand was shaking.

No. He squeezed his eye closed. You don't need it. You can control this.

However, even as he watched Xavi stash the vial in his locker, Bojan knew he was lying to himself.

* * * *

Guti saw Xavi and Bojan appear on stage, and as soon as the regulars got an eyefull of Bojan's ass, they cheered in appreciation. Bojan was going to make a mint tonight.

He saw Mesut slip backstage and followed him. He thought maybe he better talk to the young man about working the tables a little better, but even has he had the bullshit thought, he knew it was exactly that.

Guti was horny as hell and he just wanted a little taste.

"Hey, Guti," Mesut beamed as he collected up his cash. "Good night, and I bet Cristiano will be here later. Haven't seen him in a couple days."

"You do good work," Guti praised as he stepped close, brushing the tips of his fingers down Mesut's side, watching the young man shiver.

"Thanks."

Guti's hot breath fell on Mesut's neck. "You're so good, you make my cock hard."

Mesut's breath caught. "Guti..."

"Shh," Guti whispered. "Come to my office. Just a quick one."

Mesut wanted it, and he wasn't sure he was allowed to say no. Not if he wanted to keep this job. 

No, he thought as Guti's fingers drifted down to to cup Mesut's ass, Guti wanted him. He wouldn't punish Mesut for saying no.

Mesut let himself be guided to Guti's office. Let Guti push down his sparkly silver hot pants. bend him over the desk.

"God, you have such a perfect ass," Guti praised as he jerked himself into penetrating hardness. "Everyone in that club wants some of it."

Mesut closed his eyes and moaned. "I'm always thinking about you."

"You do?" Guti asked. "When you dance?"

"When they touch me. It's always your hands."

"Oh, fuck, Mesut," Guti groaned as he shoved his cock into Meust roughly. "Now when I see you up there, I'm going to know."

Meust hissed at the invasion. It was hard and it hurt and it was so good.

"You are so dirty, Mesut. Such a slut. You don't let anyone else fuck this but me, do you?"

"No...no one..." Mesut said, and gripped the desk, letting Guti pound into him. He was going to feel that the rest of the night, and the mere idea guided him to a shattering orgasm.

Guti came quickly as Mesut tightened around him.

Guti disappeared, leaving Mesut to recover himself. Face down on the desk, Mesut panted. That was too good to be right.

* * * *

Bojan saw Sergio walk in, and smiled broadly. That was it. That was what he needed. But Bojan was tied up, giving a lap dance to an appreciative older man, and knew Sergio would have to wait. 

But even as Bojan worked, he saw Fabio come off the stage and go to Sergio's table, and there was no mistaking the greeting Sergio gave him.

They had to be lovers.

Bojan turned away, fighting back tears, not even protesting as the man groped him. One week? He's gone one week and that cunt Fabio is moving in on Sergio? Everyone knew Bojan had claimed him. How dare he?

Bojan finished the dance, and didn't even protest when the man stiffed him on his tip. He moved away, not even sure where he was headed next, and then saw him sitting at the bar.

Gerard.

 

Chapter 10

Gerard raised his glass to Bojan and Bojan turned away. Fuck. Why was he here? Come to make fun of Bobo?

They’d gotten along pretty well in rehab, but Bojan hadn’t given the rich kid his phone number when they’d left. Gerard found Bojan amusing inside, but in the real world, they had nothing in common.

A regular flashed a twenty at Bojan, and he went to say hello. “How have you been?” the man asked as he patted his leg for Bojan to sit.

“Sad,” Bojan said with wide eyes. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Aw,” the man chuckled. “You wanna show me how much, baby?”

“I do,” Bojan purred as he leaned back and let the man tuck the bill in the front of his shorts. He closed his eyes and began to work the man.

“How much does it cost for you to do that to me?”

Bojan’s eyes shot open, and he saw Gerard looming over him.

“Geri! Go away!”

The man who’s lap he was writhing in, gave Gerard a glare. “He’s busy. Fuck off.”

“God, you must pay well,” Gerard sneered, taking in the unattractive man. “I can get him to wank me for free.”

The man shoved Bojan off his lap and stood, angrily facing off with Gerard. “He happens to like me!”

Gerard laughed, completely unintimidated by the smaller man. “Sure he does.”

“Geri, go away,” Bojan begged as he saw Guti headed their way, with Pepe close behind. He pushed in between them, facing the customer and trying to get the man to sit again.

“You seriously would rather be with that than me?” Gerard scoffed.

“This is my job, Gerard,” Bojan insisted, and when he saw the look on the man’s face, amended. “But I do like you!”

In disgust, the man turned away. “Fucking whore.”

Guti caught the man and put his arm around him. “Now, now, let me buy you a drink. Bojan, why don’t you take a break?”

Pepe arrived and grabbed Gerard roughly by the arm. Gerard tried to yank away, but Pepe’s grip tightened. “I think you need to leave.”

“Fuck off. Bobo! Tell him I’m your friend.”

Bojan swallowed hard. “Geri, you need to leave.”

“Do I need to pay?” Gerard asked. “You’ll only talk to me if I pay?”

“Go away!” Bojan said and turned to run back stage.

Gerard finally wrenched away from Pepe who followed him out. He checked to be sure Alex knew to keep Gerard out, and went to go check on Bojan. He’d seen Xavi and Fabio with coke earlier and needed to be sure Bojan wasn’t getting himself into trouble.

He found Bojan sat on the floor of the dressing room, crying.

“Who was that?” Pepe asked as he crouched down in front of Bojan.

“No one,” Bojan said. “Some guy I met at rehab. I told him not to come here.”

Pepe sighed. That was the last thing Bojan needed right now- more friends with drug habits. He sat next to Bojan and put an arm around him. Bojan was trembling, and it wasn’t the crying.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” Bojan hiccuped. “I just...I just need a little something to take the edge off!”

“No, you don’t,” Pepe said as he squeezed Bojan tight. 

“I do, Pepe. Please? Just a little?”

“No,” Pepe said. “Because it’s never just a little.”

Bojan cried and Pepe held him. Pepe should have listened to the doctor. Told Guti that Bojan was in no shape to come back to work.

Several minutes later, Guti came slamming in the room. “What the fuck!”

Bojan looked up with wide, scared eyes. “I’m sorry, Guti!”

“You fucking are sorry. What the fuck? That asshole friend of yours chased off one of my best customers!”

“Guti,” Pepe said quietly, but Guti ignored him, grabbing Bojan by the arm.

“You fucking get yourself cleaned up and back out there before I kick your ass out of here. And don’t even think you’re getting your share of the tips tonight. Fucking out enough money on you already, you little shit.” He shoved Bojan toward the bathroom, but held the door open with his foot.

Shaking, Bojan washed off his face, and managed to stop himself from crying. Guti dragged him back in front of a mirror and reapplied his make up.

“Now get out there and shake that worthless ass of yours,” Guti said as he inspected his work.

Bojan stumbled out, and Guti sat down, disgusted.

Pepe had gotten up and looked at Guti for a minute.

Guti’s steely blue eyes met Pepe’s. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Pepe nodded and held his tongue. Getting himself fired wasn’t the answer to Bojan’s problems, and being afraid of Guti right now just might keep Bojan clean tonight.

* * * *

Cristiano wanted to do nothing but lie in bed and breathe in Wayne’s scent for the rest of his life, but he also knew that Jose was expecting him at the club that night, like every Friday night. Not that it was for work, per se, but Iker was always there as well, and Jose didn’t like either of them to miss. And Esteban was in town, and Cristiano always found the man to have something interesting to converse about. 

Wayne was not in his bed as Cristiano lay there, his head on the pillow Wayne had used. Wayne had been busy all day after an early morning phone call from Frank.

Normally, Cristiano would not be in bed at this hour, but he’d laid down after getting dressed to go out and hadn’t been able to get back up. 

He took a deep breath and pushed himself out of bed. Wayne would come over tonight, once they’d seen to their respective duties. He knew they couldn’t be seen together. The match the other night had probably been a bad idea.

Cristiano checked his hair and grabbed his keys.

Wayne would probably be at the club tonight, and maybe he couldn’t touch him, but at least he’d be near.

* * * *

Iker looked at his watch. It was barely ten. He watched Xavi touch himself on the stage, and hated that other people saw him. 

“You’re not sleeping with that stripper again, are you?” Jose asked with a sigh.

Iker shrugged. “A couple times.” 

“Is he good?” Jose asked.

Iker nodded. “Very.”

“As long as it’s just sex,” Jose raised an eyebrow.

“Of course it’s just sex,” Iker lied. “Who has a relationship with a stripper?”

Jose nodded though he didn’t believe a word of what Iker said. His steadfast book keeper, who could always be counted on to correctly account for his money and finding where people tried to cheat him, but the last time Iker had gotten involved with that stripper, he’d missed and entire deposit, costing Jose thousands.

And then there was Cristiano. Jose saw his best dealer crossing the room to them, drink in hand, and knew there was something up with him, as well. Someone had reported having seen him with one of John Terry’s men at the United match that week. Jose was not happy about that at all.

“Cristiano,” Jose greeted him warmly with a kiss on the cheek. “How is everything?”

“Up to date,” Cristiano assured him, letting his boss know that all the deliveries of the week had been seen to, and cash collected.

Esteban sipped his drink and nodded to Cristiano. 

“So, Esteban. All you’ve done is look at the boys. Wouldn’t you like to touch one?” Jose asked, reaching into his wallet. 

Esteban laughed. “Which one would you recommend, boss?”

“Mesut’s pretty good,” Cristiano said, nodding toward a brunette bent over bar on the stage.

“I enjoy Xavi,” Jose said as he indicated another brunette.

Iker bristled.

“Hmm, I like the blonde,” Esteban said, watching Guti storm back out of the back room.

Jose laughed. “Guti owns the place. And I’ve never known him to give lap dances.”

“Shame,” Esteban shook his head.

Jose eyed Guti, a thought forming in his head. If Guti got friendly with Esteban, he might finally talk Guti into letting him move some of his product through the club. It was the perfect location for it, and Jose had been working on a deal with Raul back before everything had fallen apart.

Mesut had seen Cristiano come in and slid over. “Hi.”

Cristiano gave him a half hearted smile. He wasn’t in the mood. “Esteban here might like a little something, baby.”

Mesut gave him a pout and slid over into Esteban’s lap. “Hi.”

Esteban smiled at the kid. “Cris promises you’re good.”

“I am,” Mesut wiggled and then leaned back into Esteban as Jose slipped a bill into his g-string.

Across the room, Guti watched Mesut work Esteban, and Esteban’s eyes locked on Guti’s.

While Guti watched, Mesut rubbed himself all over Esteban, whose eyes never left Guti. 

Guti had never been so turned on in his life.

* * * *

Wayne walked in and saw Cristiano, sat with Jose and his gang, Mesut showing Esteban a good time. Cristiano wasn’t even watching. He was looking for Wayne.

Wayne met his eyes for a longing moment, and then turned to go sit with Joe who was at the end of the bar, getting drunk.

“Wayne!” Joe greeted him cheerfully. “Wayne, do you know my buddy Cesc?”

Cesc and Wayne exchanged a look over Joe.

“I do, Joe,” Wayne said as Cesc pulled him a pint. “Want to get a table?”

“Sure!” Joe said, nearly falling off his bar stool.

Wayne led Joe to a table, and came back to get his beer and a tall glass of water for Joe.

“Hey,” Cesc said, leaning across the bar on the pretense of giving Wayne his change, “you might want to watch your friend there. He’s been talking a lot about some things maybe John and Frank don’t want him to be talking about.”

Wayne nodded grimly. He also knew Frank and John were unhappy at the moment, and if Joe said the wrong thing to the wrong person, things could get ugly for everyone.

* * * *

Jose took pity Iker and Cristiano, and called it a night early. He knew both of them had other plans for their evening, and only stayed out of respect. Tonight was not the night he was going to solve the problem of either of their poor choices of bed mates, and if he was going to pull off this deal he had to acquire a sizable chunk of John’s H supply, he didn’t need distracted.

Jose was barely out the door, and Cristiano and Iker disappeared, leaving Esteban nursing a glass of whiskey. The longer he sat here, the more he wanted that blond.

Finally, late into the night, as things were beginning to shut down, Guti came over.

“All alone?” Guti asked as he took the seat next to Esteban.

“Yup.”

“One last dance?” Guti offered. 

“Nah,” Esteban said as he leaned back, watching Guti.

“Then what do you want?” Guti asked.

Esteban grinned. “You.”

“Yeah?” Guti asked, more than willing. In the back of his head, Guti wanted to know what Esteban had been doing with Raul the other day, but he pushed the thoughts away. “What do you want from me?”

Esteban leaned forward. “Cock.”

Guti licked his lips. “I think we can arrange that for you. I need to shut things down, can you wait about half an hour?”

Esteban agreed, and Guti moved to get things closed up. He found Bojan sat at his vanity, looking exhausted.

“You still clean?” he asked pulling Bojan’s chin up and checking his nose.

“Yes,” Bojan wrenched away. He grabbed his take for the night and pushed it at Guti.

“Good. Pepe is taking you home. You’ve used up your last chance, so don’t fuck up again.” Guti took the money, not even bothering to count it.

Tears sprung into Bojan’s eyes, but he scrubbed them away. He was not an addict. Not like his dad.

Pepe came and collected Bojan, not saying anything as Bojan shrugged on an oversized hoodie that made him look even younger than he was.

As they made their way to the parking lot, Bojan spied Gerard sitting behind the wheel of a very flashy sports car. He caught Bojan’s eye, but Bojan looked away quickly. Gerard couldn’t be here.

“I don’t want to go home,” Bojan said as he and Pepe got in the truck. Gerard was going to follow them, and Bojan didn’t have the strength tonight to tell him no.

“Where do you want to go?” Pepe asked, not having seen Gerard.

“Can I stay at yours?” Bojan asked in a little voice. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Pepe sighed, knowing this was not going to go over well, but nodded. “Alright.”

Pepe drove to the far side of town where he lived in a very nice house that his own salary did not pay for and pulled into the garage.

Bojan clambered out of the truck and followed Pepe into the kitchen. As Bojan attacked the fridge, Pepe went back to the bedroom.

In the bed, Steven sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. “Who did you bring home?”

“Bojan,” Pepe said as he sat on the edge of the bed, and stroked Steven’s hip.

Steven sighed. “That coked out kid Guti keeps trying to save? For fucks sake, Pepe, we’re not running a home here.”

“He’s scared and alone,” Pepe said quietly. “I can’t send him away.”

Steven sighed. “One night.”

“Thanks, baby,” Pepe said and leaned down to kiss Steven.

Pepe went back to the kitchen where Bojan was demolishing a left over pizza. His heart went out to the kid, but could he really be saved?

 

Chapter 11

Esteban wanted to bring Guti back to his place, and Guti thought with some shame how long it had been since he’d had sex somewhere other than his desk. Esteban led Guti into his bedroom, through a sparse but clean apartment.

“I’m not here much,” Esteban said by way of apology.

“Cleaner than mine,” Guti said with a smile as he reached for Esteban. 

“Do you have a home? I assumed you lived at the club,” Esteban asked as Guti caressed his sides and laid kissed on his neck.

Guti chuckled. “It seems like it. I used to have a partner, but since he left, I’m there every day.”

“You work too hard,” Esteban chided him as he enjoyed Guti’s attention. Guti’s hands had wandered up under Esteban’s shirt, stroking the soft skin of his belly, tugging at the hair on his chest.

“Mmm, probably,” Guti agreed. “What about you? Sit on your ass most of the time?”

Esteban let Guti pull his shirt off. “Depends on the day. Some time I work 48 hours straight, and some times I don’t work for two weeks.”

“Mmmm,” Guti said. “Rough.”

“Jose pays me well,” Esteban sighed as Guti nuzzled his chest.

Guti was done with the getting to know you portion of the evening. He pushed Esteban backward onto the bed, and the younger man fell easily, landing splayed out on the bed. Guti looked over the offering as he shed his own clothes. Where to begin?

Guti knelt on the bed, straddling Esteban between his legs and working Esteban's jeans open. Esteban's finger brushed across Guti's bare thigh and up to his round ass as he watched the lust developing in Guti's eyes. Esteban's jeans we tossed aside as Guti lay down next to Esteban, pressed into his side.

Esteban turned his face to Guti, and finally drew the older man into a kiss. But Guti didn't linger in the kiss as he turned his attention once again to Esteban's chest, lapping at his nipple until he elicited a moan. His hand drifted down to Esteban's cock.

Content just to lay back and allow Guti to pleasure him, Esteban's mind drifted, wondering at some of the cryptic comments Raul had made about Guti the night before. Esteban knew from asking around that Raul was the former partner Guti spoke of so bitterly, but Raul had only seemed wistful when he'd spoken of Guti. What had happened?

Guti fondled Esteban with a gentle hand, in no rush to bring the young man to a frenzy. God, he'd forgotten how lovely it was just to explore. He rolled Esteban onto his side, stroking his ass and slowly working him open. Esteban encouraged Guti on with low moans and rolls of his hips. When Guti entered Esteban with a solid thrust, Esteban cried out.

"Yes!"

Guti slowly began fucking him, just enjoying the warm tightness which enveloped his cock. Esteban met his thrust with perfectly synchronized flicks of his hips. Their skin grew slick with a bright sheen of sweat which caught the moonlight in the darkened room. 

As Guti's thighs began to shudder with the effort, he reached around to stroke Esteban's cock, increasing his pace and working them both toward bliss.

When Guti came, it was from somewhere deep within, and the orgasm seemed to go on and on as he thrust deep into Esteban as his lover tightened around him, shooting cum onto the sheets in endless streams.

Guti slowed and finally stilled, spent cock sliding out of Esteban, arm wrapped around him, holding him close as sweaty strands of curly hair stuck to Guti's cheek. They grew quiet together, and Guti knew he should go. 

But Esteban made no move to get up, and Guti drifted off into a deep, contented sleep.

* * * * 

Mesut had seen Guti talking to Esteban. He had seen how Esteban's eyes hadn't left Guti all evening. And as Mesut had stood, waiting for the late bus home, he'd seen them leave in Guti's car.

Now he lay, curled up in his own bed, staring at the ceiling.

Of course Guti had just been using him for sex. Wasn't that all he told himself he wanted from Guti? Never mind he knew it was a bad idea to get involved with the boss, he was only supposed to work this job for a few months. Get the bills paid off and figure out what his next step was. He was not going to get involved with any of this. He was going to ignore the fact that his friend Xavi was being a complete idiot over Iker who was treating him like a prince behind closed doors and calling him a cheap whore to his friends. He wasn't even talking to Bojan was was killing himself with drugs and falling for the wrong men.

This was why they drank. This was why they took drugs.

You couldn't face this life without numbing yourself.

Because if you thought about it all too clearly, you'd kill yourself. Mesut curled up into a ball and cried himself to sleep.

* * * *

"Why did you tell Jose I was just some stripper you fucked?" Xavi demanded as he stepped into Iker's flat.

Iker stared at him for a moment, wondering whether to bother to deny it or not. Xavi looked angry.

"I know we're not fucking allowed to say we're in love here, and that's fine, but you could show me some more goddamn respect that that." Cocaine had made Xavi bold, and he knew he deserved more from Iker than to be some stripper he fucked. Despite the tears of frustration which were leaking out, he knew he deserved more.

"What do you want me to say?" Iker said, finding his voice as Xavi's tears ripped through him. "That I love you?"

Xavi's eye went wide as tears dripped. "You what?"

"That I fucking love you!" Iker screamed as he slammed Xavi up against the kitchen wall, bodies pressed together as Iker clutched at the smaller man. "That the smell of you makes me insane. That the sight of you with other men makes me want to hurt them. That want nothing more than to keep you in my bed forever to be happy."

Xavi was sobbing now, he clung to Iker. 

"But I can't," Iker said as he pressed his forehead into Xavi's. "If they knew how much you meant to me, they'd use you against me."

"Who?" Xavi asked, confused.

"Jose for one. As long as he thinks I don't have loyalties to anyone but him, he leaves me be, but if he knew. If he even suspected how much I need you, he'd threaten you to keep me loyal."

"Oh," Xavi said, realization dawning on him. Iker loved him. Really loved him.

Iker cupped Xavi's face in his hands. "So you have to just be the stripper I fuck."

Xavi nodded. "Okay."

Iker wiped at Xavi's tears with his thumbs. He knew it was unfair to Xavi, but he couldn't have Xavi any other way. And if he gave him up again, he'd die. "I need you."

"I need you," Xavi agreed, and clutching Iker's sides.

That night, as Iker fucked Xavi with all the love and desperation within him, he knew there was no turning back. Xavi had his heart, and Iker would die to protect him.

 

Chapter 12

Cristiano came into consciousness slowly, warmth spread through him as his senses awoke. He took a deep breath and there it was. 

Wayne.

His face was pressed into warm skin. He slid an arm around Wayne and held him close. Wayne stirred and turned toward Cristiano.

"Hi," Wayne said as he gazed into Cristiano's deep brown eyes.

"Hi," Cristiano replied. He closed his eyes and molded his body into Wayne's. He loved him too much. 

Love.

No. Surely this was all still lust. It had barely been a week.

Wayne's fingers played up Cristiano's bare arm, definitely in the mood this morning. Cristiano stayed still, happy to allow the touches. Let Wayne set the pace.

But Wayne wasn't much in the mood for a leisurely fuck this morning. His cock was hard from the moment he'd awoken, and it craved Cristiano. He leaned up, and pushed Cristiano onto his front. Cristiano went willingly, arching his back and lifting his ass into the air. He was still loose and open from the night before, and when Wayne came up behind him, he slid right in.

They both sighed and adjusted into each other. Wayne began to slowly thrust, savoring the now so familar depths of Cristiano. Cristiano pressed his face into the pillow, making happy noises as Wayne's fat cock hit him in the right place. Made for him.

Wayne pulled Cristiano up, wrapping his arms around his sweaty skin and worked his cock even deeper. A hand drifted to Cristiano's cock, and he whimpered in pleasure.

They worked into a frenzy, skin sticking, low moans, and the heavy musk of sex between them. Cristiano came first, shooting cum onto Wayne's hand and the sheets as Wayne growled low and followed after.

Out of the corner of his consciousness, Wayne heard someone knocking on his front door.

"Ignore it," Cristiano gasped as he tightened around Wayne, dragging more pleasure from his lover.

"I can't," Wayne panted. "It might be Frank."

Cristiano stilled. "He just shows up?"

"He likes to catch us off guard," Wayne said. "Fuck with our heads."

Cristiano curled down to the sticky sheets and twisted to look up at Wayne who was already out of the bed.

"Just, stay quiet, right?"

Cristiano nodded, but even as Wayne dragged on his boxers, there was no mistaking what he'd just been doing. He reeked of sex.

Wayne hurried to the front door, and then paused to take a breath and steady himself. He opened the door.

Frank was grinning. "That must be some piece of ass you've got in there. I could hear you moaning from the street, mate.

* * * *

Steven awoke early to go on his usual morning run, and found Bojan passed out on the couch. The kid looked about fifteen. The empty pizza box lay on the coffee table along with an empty bottle of Fanta. In his sleep, he looked so peaceful, but Steven knew what he'd been up to.

He was a freaking drug addict stripper. Steven sighed as he laced up his trainer and found his running mix on his iPod. Steven wryly wondered if the homeless shelter had been closed for the evening that Pepe decided to drag this home.

Pepe was too good hearted some times, Steven thought as he left the house, heading down the street on his usual route. Sure, he made really good money at his job as a bouncer at the strip club, and Pepe wasn't really suited for 9 to 5 kind of work, but Steven hated it. Hated that Pepe worked every Friday and Saturday and could never take him out on a proper date. Hated that Pepe worked with low lifes like Bojan. Hated that when his colleagues asked about Pepe, he had to lie and say he worked in security.

Not that there was any way Steven would ever leave Pepe. Loved him far too much for that. but some days...

* * * *

Esteban awoke and was not surprised to find Guti gone. Esteban felt for the man, who had obviously been damaged by what had happened between him and Raul.

Esteban rolled to his side and picked up his phone. Firstly he sent a text to Guti. "Hope to do it again soon." And then one to Raul. "Would you like to meet for lunch?"

Guti sent no reply, but Esteban figured the man was still asleep as the club wouldn't open for a few more hours. 

Raul answered almost immediately. "Sure. What's up?"

"Guti."

"Lunch at noon?"

"I'll be there."

* * * *

"So, boy or girl?" Frank asked as he invited himself into Wayne's flat.

"What?" Wayne asked as he prayed Frank didn't go investigating.

"Or have you forgotten?"

"Tea?" Wayne offered, steering Frank away from the closed bedroom door to the kitchen. Actually, it was more of a kitchenette as Wayne's apartment was small and sparse.

Frank laughed. "Must be a minger."

Wayne bit his lip to keep from defending Cristiano as he turned on the kettle.

"Never mind- warm place to put your cock, eh?"

"Sure," Wayne agreed. "What's up?"

Frank sat, waving away the tin of biscuits Wayne offered up, and watched Wayne carefully. He was far too nervous. "Not much. Same old."

"Sure," Wayne agreed as he stared at the kettle, willing it to boil.

Frank knew that whoever was in that bedroom, Wayne did not what him to see. A plan began to form in Frank's mind that would solve several of his problems.

"Mind if I use your loo?" Frank asked, knowing it attached to Wayne's bedroom. He got up and headed that way, and panic crossed Wayne's face.

"No!" Wayne dove between Frank and the bathroom door. "I mean. It's a mess."

"No worries," Frank said with a sweet smile. "Just need a wee."

Wayne was helpless as Frank pushed open the door, and revealed a very naked Cristiano sprawled across Wayne's bed.

"Well. What have we here?"

* * * *

Steven got back from his run and found Bojan shoveling Cheerios into his mouth at an impressive rate. Pepe was sipping a mug of coffee and reading the paper. It was oddly domestic.

"Good run?" Pepe asked as Steven went to the fridge for a bottle of water.

"Yeah."

Bojan didn't look up from his cereal. Steven wasn't sure if the kid was rude or shy. He was betting on rude. 

Steven leaned on the counter and sipped the water. It was on the end of his tongue to wonder how long the kid was staying, when Pepe looked at his watch. "I've got to do the shopping, Bo. Can I drop you off home?"

Bojan nodded quietly. He didn't want to go home. Hell, he'd rather stay here under the disapproving glare of Steven. His flat was dirty and his roommates would be passed out from partying.

There would be drugs in the house.

Bojan wanted them, but he knew he shouldn't. And knew if they where there, he'd take them.

He rinsed out his cereal bowl and it put it in the dish drainer before going to collect his bag. Steven realized he'd cleaned up the pizza box and pop bottle and stacked his blanket on the couch neatly.

Bojan went to the bathroom, and Steven looked at Pepe. "He's scared to go home."

Pepe shrugged, knowing this was most likely true. "I think he's trying to stay clean, but his roommates are on drugs too. And I think he's a little afraid of the kid he met in rehab that showed up last night."

Steven sighed. No. No they were not a refuge for drugged out strippers. He was not going to let this kid into their life. You let people like that into your life and they fucked shit up. Steven had worked too hard in his life to let some stripper bring them down.

Without a word, he went to take a shower. Kid would be fine. If he wanted off the drugs, he just wouldn't take them. That easy.

* * * *

Cristiano scrambled to cover himself, and Frank took an eyeful before he manged it. He grinned at Wayne. "Sleeping with the enemy?"

"He's not the enemy!" Wayne protested.

"Wayne," Frank laid a hand on his cheek. "He works for Jose."

Wayne tried to pull back from Frank, but his grip tightened on his jaw.

"I bet JT would be very interested to learn this information."

Wayne's eyes were wide as they darted to Cristiano who was quickly dressing.

"For fuck's sake," Cristiano said. "It was a fuck. Nothing more." It killed him a little inside to say it, but he prayed Wayne understood. "Like you've never put your cock somewhere you shouldn't."

Frank shot a glare at Cristiano. "I'm not the one with my pants down, son."

"It was just a fuck," Wayne agreed, knowing why Cristiano said it. 

"Good," Frank said, not believing it for a moment. Just a fuck would have left early in the morning. Cristiano was right. Frank knew how this worked. "Send Jose my best."

Cristiano froze. He did have to leave or give them away. He shot a worried look at Wayne who wouldn't look him in the eye, but Frank still had a grip on him, and unless he wanted to get into a physical confrontation with the man, he had to leave.

Wordlessly, feeling like a coward, Cristiano left.

"Now," Frank said letting go of Wayne. "There's a little favor you can do for me, and we'll forget I saw anything here."

"What?" Wayne asked, embarrassed that Cristiano had seen him give into Frank so easily.

"There's a storage locker down by the docks I need someone to look in on for me."

* * * * 

Raul was waiting for Esteban when he arrived at the open air cafe, sipping a sangrina and looking calm and collected. Esteban had only met the man the other day, but there was something about him that made Esteban trust him. And he had information on Guti that Esteban needed.

"How are you," Raul said, greeting him warmly and filling a glass of wine for Esteban.

"Good, thank you," Esteban said as he sat.

They chatted about mindless things for several minutes as they ordered a light meal. The breeze was blowing perfectly and it was a lovely day.

Finally, Raul dove in. "So, I hear you have a little crush on Guti."

"Crush?" Esteban asked, wondering at the juvenile sounding word. "We fucked."

Raul winced slightly. "So it was just sex?"

Esteban shrugged. "Maybe not."

"He's intriguing, isn't he?"

Esteban nodded. "He hates you."

"I know he does," Raul said with a weary sigh. "And he won't listen to reason."

"About what?" Esteban pressed. This was exactly what he'd wanted to know. Would Raul tell him the truth?

Raul sat back and swirled the dregs of fruit in his glass. "Guti and I used to be partners. Best friends. We opened the club together ten years ago, and it was a huge success."

"Were you lovers?" Esteban asked, quietly.

"No," Raul said. "Never were. I loved him, you know, but it was never the time between us."

"So why does he hate you?"

Raul sighed. "We used to have a dancer working for us. Beautiful man by the name of David Beckham."

Esteban's eyes widened slightly. He'd heard of Beckham.

Raul nodded. "Yes, that one. Guti was in love with him, and David didn't love him back. Not the way Guti deserved, you know?" He sighed and set his glass back on the table, refilling it as he looked for words. "I tried to tell Guti, you know? But he wouldn't hear it. Accused me of being jealous that David wanted him and not me." He laughed sadly. "David was beautiful, but how could you love anyone more than I loved Guti. If I was jealous of anyone, it was David."

Raul had said loved, but Esteban got the feeling that it wasn't past tense.

"David had a drug problem. A big one. He handled himself pretty well, considering, but he couldn't function without a hit. Guti ignored it even though he had to see what it was doing to David." Raul stopped again and Esteban waited patiently for him to continue. "One night David didn't show up for work. I went to his flat. He was passed out from what I assumed was an overdose. I tried to wake him, but I couldn't manage it. I called Guti. David started to wake up, and I stripped off his clothes and managed to get him upright in the shower, trying to keep him conscious before Guti got there and we could decide if we wanted to take him to the hospital. He kept sliding down the wall, and I got in the shower with him, just trying to keep him awake." Raul took a shaky breath. "When Guti got there, and saw us in the shower together, he flipped out. He accused me of setting it all up to make him think David was cheating on him. I tried to explain, but Guti was crazed. He threw me out. Some time that night, David died."

Tears threatened the back of Esteban's eyes. He got it now. The pain in Guti. His hatred for Raul.

"In the end, I think Guti even thinks I had something to do with David's overdose. That I drugged him to set it all up. I don't know. He threw me out of the club. I let him buy me out because I didn't know what else to do. I thought eventually he'd calm down and listen to reason."

"But you've bought back in," Esteban said.

"I bought the mortgage, yes," Raul said. "But as Guti is happy to inform me, I don't actually control anything about the club."

"Why did you do it?"

"I was hoping he was ready to forgive me, but he's not."

Esteban nodded. "You still love him."

Raul shrugged as their lunches arrived. As the waiter left, he said, "I do, but it's not like that. I think you'll be good for him. I just want him happy."

"I'm not sure I can fix what's wrong in his heart," Esteban said. "He's damaged."

"I know," Raul said. "Which is part of the reason I came back. Someone has to look after him."

 

Chapter 13

 

Wayne parked near the storage facility, and at once he realized something had to not be right here. To begin with, this was not a place John usually used, and in the second place, Frank had never once sent Wayne to do pick-up on his own. He knew Frank didn't trust him, though Frank seemed to trust that idiot Joe.

It couldn't be a loyalty test. So what was it?

And then Wayne saw him. Out of the corner of his eye, looking very non descript, was Cesc, Guti's bartender. If Wayne hadn't been looking, he never would have seen the man, ball cap pulled low, leaning against the wall, eyes on phone.

Now why would a bartender at a strip joint be here?

Wayne had always thought the guy was a little too clean-cut for the joint. The other bartenders never seemed to get hair cuts or use much deodorant. Cesc was never drunk.

To his credit, Cesc never looked up at Wayne, though he surely must have spotted him. Wayne continued to the storage locker, wondered what Cesc would do. If he was a cop, he would surely be here to arrest Wayne for what was inside the locker.

Was that what Frank wanted? 

Wayne suspected Frank knew the cops were onto them, but did he know Cesc was one of the cops?

And how could Wayne use that information to his advantage?

* * * * 

Mesut nearly called in sick to work that afternoon. He didn't want to go back. He couldn't look at anyone. They certainly knew What Mesut had done with Guti, and that Guti had found someone better.

And what if Guti wasn't done with him? What if Guti wanted more? Mesut wouldn't be able to say no.

But he went. He had to. He needed the money and if he didn't go back today, he'd never go back again. And then what? It wasn't like there was any lower for him to sink.

Yes there was, he reminded himself. You could give into the drinks and the drugs. As long as he stayed clean, he was still in control.

"Looking awful pensive there, college boy," Fabio said, taking a drag on a cigarette.

Mesut hadn't seen the blond as he walked up to the building. "Nothing," he muttered. He didn't like Fabio at all. He was awfully full of himself for someone who stripped for a living.

"Are we moping over Guti?" Fabio sneered as he flicked the butt of the cigarette aside and followed Mesut into the club's back door.

"No!" Mesut insisted, but neither of them believed it.

"You can't fuck the boss, college boy."

"I can do what I like." Mesut sat at a dressing table and tried to ignore Fabio.

Fabio chuckled. "You certainly can. But if you want to make the real money around here, you need to get yourself a rich man to fuck. Guti isn't going to pay you to stick his cock in your ass. Men like Sergio will."

"So be a whore?"

"Baby," Fabio purred as he leaned over Mesut. "We're all whores. Why spread your legs for free when some sucker is willing to pay you for it?"

Bojan shuffled in at that moment, in last night's clothes.

"Like Bo here," Fabio said as the green shirt Bojan was still wearing was unmistakable. "Spend the night with that pretty boy who came looking for you yesterday?"

"What? No," Bojan said, squeezing his hands as they started to shake again. "I stayed at Pepe's."

Fabio raised an eyebrow. "You did?"

"What? Yeah...he just..."

"Pepe huh?"

"No!" Bojan insisted as Fabio's insinuation was clear. "I just..."

Mesut reached out and took Bojan's hand. "How you doing?"

"Fine. I'm fine," Bojan said. In truth, he was a mess. Pepe had dropped him off at his flat, but he'd waited in the entry way for Pepe to leave, and then gone up the road to the McDonald’s where he'd hung out until they kicked him out. He'd used the twenty bucks Pepe had loaned him and got lunch at the 7-11, and sat in the park until it was time to go to work. 

He needed a new place to live, but he had no where to go. He'd almost got up the nerve to ask Pepe to go into the flat with him so he could collect his things at least, but Pepe had done enough. He'd have to go home tonight, at least to change his clothes and he didn't want to.

"Have a pick me up, Bo," Fabio tossed him a packet of cocaine, and Bojan missed it. He fumbled on the floor to pick it up.

"Bojan," Mesut said quietly, and with wild eyes, Bojan looked up at him.

"Go on," Fabio urged. "Sergio gets me all I want."

At the mention of Sergio's name, Bojan's gaze hardened. "Fuck off." He threw the cocaine back at Fabio and stalked into the bathroom.

Unfazed Fabio tucked the packet into his jeans pocket. "His loss."

Mesut said nothing as he started to apply his make up. Don't get involved, Mesut. Just do your job.

* * * *

Wayne walked past the storage container and around the corner. He got out his phone and called Frank.

"Yes?"

"So you knew the police were on to you."

Frank chuckled. "Maybe I suspected. Why?"

"I was just wondering how much it was worth to you to know the name of one of these cops."

"You saw one?"

"Yes."

"You know him?"

"Yes."

"So who is it?"

"What is it worth to you?"

"Wayne," Frank said dangerously. "Do you want me to call John and let him in on your extra curricular activities?"

"Frank," Wayne echoed his tone. "The cop is around the corner. How much do you think it's worth to him to know who is responsible for the contents of that storage locker?"

Frank was quiet for a moment, unused to being stood up to. Wayne knew he was playing with fire, but he was tired of Frank, and he knew he could never look Cristiano in the eye again if he backed off now.

"I never saw you with Cristiano."

"Good. It's Cesc. Guti's bartender."

Wayne hung up the phone and walked back around the corner and right up to where Cesc stood.

Cesc smiled at him. "Hey Wayne. What are you doing here?"

"I was here to pick up something for Frank. What are you doing here?"

"Not much," Cesc shrugged as though it was perfectly normal for him to hang out at a storage warehouse at the docks.

"Let's cut the bullshit. You don't want me. I'm small potatoes. You want Frank and John. I can get you them."

Cesc's eyes went wide. "You're going to give me Frank and John."

"Yes."

"in exchange for what?"

"I'm going to go in that storage locker and clean it out. You're going to act like you saw nothing. Tonight at the club, I'll get you enough to put both of them away for the rest of their lives."

Cesc eyed Wayne for a moment. "Why?"

"Because Frank crossed the line, and I'm done being pushed around by him."

 

Chapter 14

 

“You told him what?” Cristiano asked, a look of horror crossing his tanned features.

“I told him I’d deliver him John and Frank,” Wayne repeated, watching Cristiano begin to pace the kitchen of his flat. After Wayne had emptied the storage bin, he’d delivered everything to Frank, and then sought out Cristiano.

“You can’t....they’ll kill you!” Cristiano insisted, stopping in front of Wayne, hands gripping the table.

“They’ll be in jail,” Wayne told him. He reached up and touched Cristiano’s face. “We have to stand up to them, baby. I hated it this morning that I just let Frank throw you out. I felt so weak.”

“Wayne,” Cristiano sighed. “I didn’t like it either, but this is such a risk.”

“I know,” Wayne said as he pulled Cristiano down into the other chair. “I know, but I don’t want to live like this any more- dependent on the whims of Frank and John.”

Cristiano sighed and leaned into Wayne. “Sergio talked about that, you know. Just the other day.”

“Sergio?”

“A friend...client, really. Wondered why we had to go through Jose. Why we couldn’t just supply for ourselves?”

Wayne sat back and look at Cristiano. “Why not?”

“What?” Cristiano asked.

“I give Cesc info on Frank and John, why not Jose too?”

“You want to go up against Jose too?” Cristiano asked.

Wayne saw the hesitation on Cristiano’s face. “We’ll need to be careful, I know, but...but,” Wayne grabbed Cristiano’s hand. “Look, I’ve been bending over for John and Frank since I can’t even remember when. I just take it from them, and I hate it. I hate what they’ve made me do.”

There was desperation in Wayne’s eyes, and Cristiano’s heart ached. 

“And I never really cared about just me, you know?” Wayne said. “But now...now there’s you. And I don’t want you to think I’m weak.”

“I don’t,” Cristiano insisted.

“Don’t lie,” Wayne said. 

“I just...I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Cristiano said. “Frank and John...Jose...they’re powerful men.”

“We are powerful men,” Wayne said. “And we will not fail.”

The conviction in Wayne’s voice had Cristiano nodding. Yes. They could do this. Together.

* * * *

Guti saw Mesut on the stage and realized after a few minutes that the young man was ignoring him. He sighed, realizing that Mesut must have seen him with Esteban and be upset. God, he knew he shouldn't fuck the help.

He could fucking get over it, Guti decided and turned his attention away from the stage. Esteban had said he would come in tonight, and Guti couldn't wait to see him.

He saw Wayne come in with a look of determination, and Guti had a sense of foreboding.

Something was going to go down tonight and he would fucking well not have it at his club.

He crossed the room to Wayne. “Good evening.”

“Hi,” Wayne said as he took a seat at the bar.

“Everything alright?”

Wayne gave Guti a suspicious look. “Fine.”

“What’s your pleasure tonight, Wayne?”

“Nothing,” Wayne said as he looked down the bar at Cesc who was busy with some other customers.

“Then maybe you’ve come to the wrong place,” Guti said, his meaning clear.

Wayne turned and looked at him. They spent a moment appraising each other, and finally, Wayne nodded. 

“Just here to talk to some people and have a couple of pints.”

Guti nodded, though he wasn’t happy. Wayne was in a dangerous mood. He did not make moral judgments on the people who came into his club as long as they kept to themselves and didn’t do anything to damage his business.

Cesc waited until Guti disappeared to approach Wayne.

“Usual?”

“Please,” Wayne said and Cesc began to pull the pint. He got out his cash, and a folded piece of paper was concealed beneath the bill.

Cesc set the beer in front of Wayne and accepted the bill. 

“You’ll find a little something extra there that a friend of mine thought you could use.”

Cesc raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Just as long as me and my friend stay out of this, right?”

Cesc nodded. “As agreed.”

* * * *

“The bartender is a cop?” John asked as he stared incredulously at Frank.

“According to Wayne.”

“How does Wayne know?” 

Frank tried to sidestep the question. “We have to do something about it.”

“Do what?” John asked, irritably. “He doesn’t have anything on us.”

“He does,” Frank said. “I was using a storage bin out by the docks...”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” John demanded.

“It was just a temporary thing,” Frank said. He should have started this conversation in bed. “Anyway, Cesc caught on to it and has had the place under surveillance for a couple of days.”

“How much have we lost?” John said, his expression growing stormy.

“Nothing,” Frank said. “Wayne got it all out.”

“How?”

“That is the question I need answered.”

* * * *

Cristiano arrived about half an hour after Wayne did. He took his usual seat in the corner, and Mesut was in his lap a few minutes later. 

“Hi,” Mesut smiled, but it was forced.

“Hi,” Cristiano replied, too distracted to notice.

“Want some company?”

“Sure,” Cristiano said as he absently tucked a bill in Mesut’s shorts.

Mesut started to wiggle, but Cristiano stilled him with a firm hand. Mesut was going to discover the gun he had in his waistband if he kept that up. “Just sit with me, okay?”

Mesut stuck out a pouty lip. “You know Guti hates that.”

Cristiano peeled several large bills out of his wallet. “I think Guti won’t mind.”

Mesut nodded with wide eyes, and did as he was told.

* * * *

Cesc stood in the bathroom and looked at the paper Wayne had given him, and it was everything he needed to put away a lot of bad men for a long time. His captain hadn’t been pleased when Cesc had told him about the deal he’d made with Wayne, but if letting one small time player off the hook was going to net him John, Frank, and now Jose, well, that was the way things worked some times.

He needed to take this information to the captain. Let him know so they could begin to plan how to take them down. It was dangerous for him to have this, but he couldn’t just leave. He would have to work out his shift and go to the station after.

Jamming the paper in his back pocket, Cesc took a breath to calm himself. His cover was blown. He shouldn’t even be here.

One shift. No one but he and Wayne knew this information had changed hands.

He was fine.

Cesc shoved the door to the bathroom open, and found himself face to face with John and Frank.

“You and I need to have a word, son,” John said as he shoved Cesc back through the door.

* * * *  
“Hey,” Esteban said as he sat down next to Guti.

Guti jumped. “Esteban!”

“You were in another world,” Esteban smiled as he laid his hand on Guti’s thigh and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Sorry,” Guti said, inhaling Esteban’s scent. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Esteban asked, sensing that something was really bothering Guti.

“Just, everything with Raul and all,” Guti waved away his concern. In truth, Raul hadn’t crossed his mind all evening. He was too busy watching Wayne, and then John and Frank had arrived not long ago, looking angry.

“Sure,” Esteban allowed. He gave the waiter his order and gazed around the room. Cristiano was sat with a dancer in his lap, neither of them paying the slightest attention to the other. The dancer was glaring at Guti, and Cristiano was watching the door to the bathroom where Frank stood.

“What’s going on?” Esteban asked, his alarm raised.

“What do you mean?” Guti had been watching Wayne down several pints of beer.

“I mean Frank stood over there by the bathroom. He just told some guy he couldn’t go in.”

Guti looked and immediately stood up. He caught Pepe’s eye and gestured him to follow. 

* * * *

John slammed Cesc into the wall. “A little birdie tells me you’re a cop.”

“What?” Cesc squeaked, his breath lost on impact. “That’s stupid.”

“Stupid, eh?” John said, a hand gripping Cesc’s shirt, he used the other one to begin riffling through Cesc’s pockets. In a panic, Cesc tried to shove him off.

“What are you doing?”

John pulled out the paper. “What have we here?” He released Cesc, but shoved him back toward the stall, blocking the door.

“Nothing,” Cesc said uselessly, but even as he spoke, his training kicked in and he began to check John over for weapons. There was a gun in his jacket pocket. Cesc could see the bulge. Cesc’s own gun pressed hotly into his back. He didn’t want to use it, but his hand drifted back.

John scanned the page, and when he looked back up at Cesc, there was pure rage in his eyes.

“Tell me who gave you this and I might let you live.”

* * * *

“Frank, get out of the way,” Guti said as he approached, Pepe on his heels.

“Now Guti,” Frank said with a charming smile. “It’s just John, you see? Sushi didn’t agree with him.”

“Bullshit,” Guti said. “Move.”

When Frank didn’t comply, Pepe stepped forward, and in that moment, the door to the bathroom slammed open and there was gunfire.

Screams echoed throughout the club and in a moment, it was chaos.

Cristiano shoved Mesut under the table as he pulled out his own gun. Mesut wrapped his arms around his head and started to sob. 

Wayne was at his side in a moment, and they pressed forward. As agreed, if the moment presented itself, they would take out Frank and John.

They saw Pepe wrestling the gun from Frank’s hand, but John shoved the bouncer aside, cracking him over the head with the butt of his gun.

Frank saw Cristiano and Wayne approaching, turned, and fired. Wayne shoved Cristiano clear and fired back.

Cristiano stumbled, but as he caught himself, he fired in the direction of Frank and John. 

Guti was watching it all, horrified as a bullet caught Frank in the middle of his chest. John fired blindly, and with a scream, Guti saw Esteban go down.

With grim determination, Wayne and Cristiano turned their guns on John.

And then there was silence

 

Chapter 15

 

Frank and John lay dead on the floor. Wayne kicked them both to be sure. Cristiano looked at him. “We should get out of here.”

“No,” Wayne said. “This was self defense.” He kicked Frank’s gun away from his lifeless hand.

Cristiano gaped at him for a moment, and realized the wisdom of what he said.

“I’m going to check on Cesc,” Wayne said as he pushed the door to the bathroom open. Cesc was lying on the floor, clutching his shoulder and dialing his phone in a bloody hand. 

He looked fearfully up at Wayne who put his gun away. “Calling the cops?”

“Y-y-es,” Cesc said in a shaky voice.

“Good,” Wayne said. “Here’s what you saw....”

* * * *

Guti scrambled over to Esteban’s side. “Oh, God...Este...”

Esteban had been shot in the side. Blood flowed, but he was awake, clutching it. “What the hell?”

“SOMEONE CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE!” Guti screamed as he wrenched his shirt off, using it to press against Esteban’s wound.

“Hey, I’m gonna be okay,” Esteban promised despite the pain and all the blood. 

Mesut crawled out from under a nearby table. Nearly all the other patrons had vanished, and the dancers on the stage had run to hide in the dressing room. 

Guti thrust his phone at Mesut. “Call,” he begged with a choked sob.

Mesut grabbed the phone even as sirens could be heard in the distance. He dialed with a trembling hand, trying not to look a the blood even as bile rose in his throat. This was it. He was getting the fuck out of this place, no matter what.

* * * *

Pepe came too with an intense pain in his head. With a groan, he opened his eyes and saw police and paramedics swarming. A young woman crouched down in front of him.

“Look at me,” she ordered, and Pepe struggled to focus on her face.

“We’ve got a probable concussion,” she reported into her radio. “In the back, he’s next after the gunshots.”

“What the hell?” Pepe moaned.

“There’s a been a shooting,” she told him in a matter of fact voice. “The police will want to talk to you.”

Pepe nodded and then wished he hadn’t. She helped him sit up and lean carefully against the bar.

“Just try to stay conscious, okay?” she said not unkindly.

Pepe closed his eyes and took in some shallow breaths. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but Steven was going to be pissed.

* * * *

“Is it over?” Bojan asked, eyes full of tears and he and Fabio hid under a dressing table in the changing room.

“I don’t know,” Fabio said, his voice unsteady as he held on to Bojan. All of the arrogance had drained out of the young man.

The door slammed open. “EMT, anyone in here?”

Relief washed over Bojan as he peered out. “Just us.”

“Are you okay?” asked the man.

“Yes,” Bojan said as he and Fabio crawled out.

“Stay put. The police will want to talk to you.”

“Police?” Bojan squeaked.

“About the murder, kid. No one is going to care about the drugs you’re on.”

The EMT left and Bojan slumped in a chair. Fabio grabbed a sweatshirt off his table and dragged it on. He sat on an chair and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“I wonder who got shot?” Bojan said in a scared voice.

“I don’t know,” Fabio said. “I don’t...I don’t want to see it, you know?”

“I know,” Bojan said. “I know.”

“You want something?” Fabio asked.

Bojan took a breath. “Don’t suppose you have any booze?”

Fabio pulled a bottle of vodka out of his bag.

“Thanks,” Bojan said, leaning over and grabbing it. He unscrewed the lid and took a long drink. It burned, but quickly began to numb Bojan.

“Fuck,” Fabio said and took the bottle as Bojan passed it back.

“Exactly.”

* * * *

Esteban was rushed into emergency surgery. Guti paced the emergency room, blood on his jeans, wearing the scrubs the nurse had offered him when he’d arrived shirtless. The other patrons kept clear as Guti looked half crazed.

“Guti.”

He looked up and saw Raul.

“What do you want?”

“Esteban...is he going to be okay?”

“Why do you care?”

“Guti,” Raul pleaded. 

Guti looked at Raul, and the concern in his eyes, and remembered Raul, his best friend, his partner. Tears sprang to his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Raul moved closer and Guti collapsed into him.

“I don’t know....Raul...”

“It’s okay,” Raul whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.

 

* * * *  
Steven rushed into the exam room where Pepe was lying, propped up on some pillows. “Oh my god...”

“I’m fine, baby,” Pepe assured him, opening his eyes to see the panic on Steven’s face.

“Oh, Pepe,” Steven said as his eyes welled with tears. He grabbed Pepe’s hand and squeezed it.

“I got knocked on the head, but I’m going to be fine.”

Steven nodded. “You have to stop working there, Pepe, swear to me.”

“I promise.”

* * * *

“Mr. Guti?” a nurse emerged.

“Yes?” Guti and Raul were sat near the door, Guti’s head on Raul’s shoulder.

“Your friend, Mr. Granero. He’s out of surgery. The bullet didn’t hit any major organs, and the doctors think he’s going to be just fine.”

“Thank you,” Guti said. “Oh, god, thank you.”

 

Chapter 16

 

Cristiano sat in the police station and stared at the wall. The police had already released him from custody, angrily so, as all the witnesses said Frank and John shot first, Wayne and Cristiano took them out purely in self defense.

Even Cesc.

They were still talking to Wayne, but he should join Cristiano shortly.

Cristiano was trying to figure out what their next step was. Wayne would have something in mind, but Cristiano wanted to have a plan, too. He could see things very quickly developing that Wayne was in charge, and if Cristiano wanted to stay some one’s lap dog, he could keep working for Jose.

Jose.

Fuck, what was Cristiano going to do there?

Jose was going to make a move to seize power with John and Frank out of the way. How would he react if Cristiano took Wayne’s side? What would Iker do? And Joe?

Cristiano’s head hurt. It was nearly dawn and he didn’t want to think. He wanted to go home. He wanted to take Wayne home. He wanted to take Wayne to a beach in Aruba and never look back at this fucking city again.

They had money. Cristiano had close to a million stashed away. They could sell out to Jose- give him all of Frank and John’s product and clients and just get the hell out.

But when Wayne appeared, he gave Cristiano a determined look. “Come on- we’ve got work to do.”

* * * *

Esteban opened his eyes and saw Guti hovering. “Hi,” he said in a raspy voice.

“Do you need water?” Guti said, turning to get the cup with a straw the nurse said he might want when he woke up.

Esteban nodded and gratefully took a sip of the water Guti offered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Raul sitting in a chair across the room, and his eyes widened.

Guti set the glass down and touched Esteban’s face. “We were worried sick about you.”

“We?”

Guti turned to look at Raul. “We.”

Esteban smiled. “So we’re talking?”

“We have a truce.”

Esteban closed his eyes. “Wake me when you’ve talked it out.”

Guti frowned. “Talked what out?”

“David,” Esteban said as he drifted back to sleep.

Guti froze. “How does he know about David?”

“I told him,” Raul said quietly.

Guti turned to him. “Why were the two of you talking about David?”

“Sit? Please?” Raul requested, and after a moment’s hesitation, Guti complied. “Guti, I love you. I never stopped. You have been my best friend for most of my life.”

Guti stared at his hands. “I know.”

“And I am so sorry about what happened to David. You loved him.”

“I did,” Guti said as tears formed in his eyes.

“I wish I had done something differently and we could have saved him. I tried to save him, Guti...”

“You hated him.”

“No, no I didn’t,” Raul said, a note of pleading in his voice. “I hated that he was so messed up. I hated what he did to you- that he chose the drugs over you.”

“He loved me!”

“I know he did. But the drugs ruined him.” Raul reached over and grabbed Guti’s hand. “I was trying to save him, Guti...”

Guti squeezed Raul’s hand. “Why couldn’t we save him?”

“I don’t know,” Raul said. “The drugs are too strong. No matter how much we tried, he had to want off them, and he didn’t.”

Guti broke down and started to sob. Raul held him, relieved that Guti could finally let go of the pain. Maybe he could finally be whole again. Maybe he’d let Raul back in. For good.

* * * *

Pepe was released from the hospital that afternoon. Against Steven’s wishes, Pepe wanted to go back to the club to collect his car and his stuff he’d left.

Steven waited in the car as Pepe ducked under the crime scene tape. His key unlocked the back door, and he entered the dark club, the smell of gunpowder lingering.

Turning on the lights, he found the place looked remarkably orderly despite the chaos of the night before. Several chairs were knocked over, tables over turned, but hell, that could have just been a wild Friday night.

He avoided the corner back by the bathrooms and headed back stage. His locker was in the dressing room, and he went to collect his wallet. He nearly tripped over Bojan lying on the floor. He was curled up on a pile of clothes.

Oh no, Pepe thought as he crouched down next to Bojan. He shook his shoulder gently. “Bo?”

Bojan’s eyes fluttered open. “Oh, hey Pepe.”

Pepe’s eyes darted around, looking for signs of drugs, but all he saw was an empty bottle of vodka on one of the tables. “What did you take?”

“Nothing,” Bojan insisted as he sat up, head aching. “Just the vodka, I mean.”

“No coke?” Pepe took Bojan’s chin and inspected his nose.

“No, Pepe, I swear it.” Bojan pulled away. “Me and Fabio hid back here and we...we were scared.”

Pepe pulled Bojan into a hug. “Why didn’t you go home?”

Bojan squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to go there, Pepe. I hate it there.”

“So you’re just going to sleep here on the floor?” Pepe asked, his heart aching.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Bojan sobbed. 

“Oh Bo.”

Bojan pulled away from him. “It’s fine. I can stay here. Guti will be back soon and we can clean up the place.”

“Esteban got shot,” Pepe told him. “Guti is with him in the hospital. I don’t think Guti’s going to be back soon.”

“But he has to be, Pepe,” Bojan said. “I need this job. You need this job!”

Pepe looked away. “I’m quitting.”

“No,” Bojan shook his head. “No, Pepe you can’t. You can’t leave me alone. You...”

“Steven is afraid for me.”

“Oh,” Bojan said, and all the fight went out of him. “Then I guess you better go.”

“Bo.”

“No,” Bojan pushed away from him and struggled to his feet. “No. I’ll be fine. There’s some money in Guti’s office. I’ll get something to eat.”

“This isn’t a life, Bojan,” Pepe said. 

“This is all I got,” Bojan replied as he started to pick up the dressing room, something no one ever did. He looked around for a trash can to throw the vodka bottle in, and realized there wasn’t one.

“You can come home with me.”

Bojan looked at him. “Steven doesn’t want me.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“No,” Bojan said, pulling himself up. “No, I don’t want his pity. I don’t want your pity. This is my life, and I am fucking in control of it.”

Pepe blinked. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to clean up this place and when Guti comes back, I’m going back to work. I’m...I’m gonna start saving my money and then maybe go back to school.”

There was determination in Bojan’s eyes that Pepe had never seen before. He went to the storage closet and got out a trash bag. He handed it to Bojan who nodded his thanks, and started to fill it.

Pepe went to tell Steven he wasn’t going to be coming straight home. Steven was going to be angry, but Bojan’s determination had rubbed off on Pepe. He couldn’t spend his life trying to keep Steven happy. Not when there were more important things to be done.

* * * *

Xavi knocked on Mesut’s door for five minutes before the bleary eyed man answered.

“Oh my GOD,” Xavi flung himself at Mesut. “You didn’t answer your phone and no one knew where you’d gone, I thought you were dead in a ditch!”

“I came home after I talked to the police. I’m never going back.” Mesut allowed the hug for several moments before pulling away.

Xavi closed the door behind him and followed Mesut to the kitchen, fretting. “What? No. Mesu, you have to come back. You’re the only decent person there.” He made the comment with a forced laugh.

“Xavi, people got shot and killed last night.”

“It’s not usually like that,” Xavi said.

“You should get out of there, too. You and Iker. You need to get the hell out of this town and start over some place else.”

Now Xavi laughed for real. “Right. Where the hell are we supposed to go?”

“I don’t know,” Mesut said as he slumped down at the kitchen table. 

“And do what?” Xavi continued as he sat next to Mesut. “Iker and I both have criminal records. No one is going to hire us to do much more than flip burgers. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to take abuse from fat, middle class people who think they’re better than me because they’re buying a Big Mac rather then serving them.”

Mesut saw the anger in Xavi’s face. “It can’t be that bad...”

“Oh, wake up, Mesut. This is the best I got. I have a job that pays decent money and I got a man that loves me. Yeah, people got shot last night. Guess what, it happens in my world.”

“Why?” Mesut asked in a small voice. “Why does it have to happen?”

Xavi sighed. “Because the fat, middle class people can continue to live with blinders on, thinking they got it good if they keep people like us down. As long as we’re down, they got something to look down on, and don’t have to face the fact that their lives are pathetic excuses for living. They don’t care about anything but themselves and their cars and some times their families.”

Mesut couldn’t disagree. He and Xavi had grown up on a nicer side of town, but when Xavi was eighteen, his father had thrown him out of the house with nothing because Xavi had embarrassed him in front of his buddies, stumbling around drunk. Xavi’s parents didn’t care. Neither did Mesut’s. When he’d dropped out of med school, his parents had told him they’d wasted enough money on him and he was on his own.

“Where did we go wrong?” Mesut asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Xavi took his hand. “But we gotta stick together. You, me, Iker. Guti looks after us, which is more than a lot of people got.”

Mesut pulled away. “Guti doesn’t give a shit about us.”

Xavi sighed. “He does. Fuck, how many times has he sent Bojan to rehab? He never lets the clients get too friendly with us, even if it costs him. He doesn’t have to do that stuff.”

“It’s fucked up,” Mesut said with a sniffle.

“Yeah,” Xavi agreed with a shrug. “But it could be a lot worse.”

* * * *

Guti was exhausted when he left the hospital. He hadn’t wanted to go, but Raul had promised to look after Esteban and insisted Guti needed sleep.

Before Guti headed home, he decided to look in on the club. Insurance claims were going to have to be filed. He needed to call one of those companies that cleaned up crime scenes. It was a good business in this area.

When Guti pulled up, he was surprised to see the lights on. The closed sign was on the door, but the police tape was gone. Unlocking the front door, he stepped inside.

What he saw shocked the hell out of him. Bojan was mopping the floor, singing along to a Lady Gaga track someone had put on the stereo. Pepe and Mesut were replacing the door to the bathroom that had gotten shot full of holes. Xavi and Fabio were dragging broken furniture out to the dumpster in the back. There were several half eaten pizzas on the bar.

“Guti!” Bojan said as he spotted their boss first.

“What are you guys doing?” Guti asked as emotion welled up in him.

“Fixing the place up. We can’t afford to be closed too long!” Xavi said as he and the others crowded around Guti.

Guti looked at Bojan who was smiling at him. “You guys did all this for me?”

Bojan shrugged. “Some of us ain’t got much else.”

Guti pulled Bojan into a hug. “You guys have always got me, understand that? Always.”

Mesut met Guti’s eyes, and Mesut realized as fucked up as they all were, as much as they hurt each other all the time, they were a family.

A family that Mesut needed.

 

Epilogue

 

Bojan's head hung. "I'm stupid, Pepe. I'm never going to get this." His GED review book lay open in front of him, the pages dog eared.

"You're not stupid," Pepe said, trying not to sigh in exasperation. "You just never learned this stuff."

"But who needs to know what fractions are, anyway!" he wailed.

Pepe pulled the book toward him. The problem was adding fractions. He was no teacher, but he was trying to think of a way to explain it to Bo so it made sense. "Okay, look, Guti makes you dance at least fifty minutes of every hour, right?"

"Sure," Bojan said looking distrustful.

"So that looks like this," Pepe said and wrote 50/60.

"What's the 60?"

"60 minutes in a hour."

"Oh," Bojan said. "So I get a ten minute break. So that's this." He wrote 10/60.

"Yes," Pepe nodded. "So if you add these," he wrote out the problem, "What do you get?"

Bojan frowned. "60/60?"

"Which you can reduce to what?"

"One?"

"Exactly!" Pepe said. 

Bojan grinned. 

Pepe ruffled his hair. "Now, if you had to work half an hour..."

They kept working through the page and Bojan got more confident with every problem.

"You two are going to be late to work if you don't get going," Steven said as he walked in an hour later.

"Oh hell," Pepe said. "Thanks," he got up and kissed Steven on the cheek.

Bojan stuffed his book into his bag and got up. 

"You eat?" Steven asked, still amazed at how skinny the kid was. He'd been living with Pepe and Steven for three months now. Steven had allowed it on the conditions that Bojan had to stay clean and work towards finishing his GED. He'd never admit it, but he'd become quite fond of the kid.

"Not yet," Bojan said.

"Go get your stuff, I'll make you a sandwich," Steven said as he went to the fridge.

"Can I get one too?" Pepe asked.

"Make your own sandwich," Steven teased, but he laid out four pieces of bread. "How's it coming?"

"Pretty good," Pepe said. "He's not dumb, he just never had any reason to learn any of this and it's hard."

"I was terrible at math," Steven sympathized. He wrapped up two ham sandwiches in wax paper and put them with two apples in a bag.

Bojan scampered back out with his work bag. "Thanks, Steven."

"How late?" Steven asked. 

"We're both off at one," Pepe told him. Guti had been grateful that Pepe had taken Bojan in, and arranged that they both worked the same hours.

"Unless the tips are rolling!" Bojan grinned and Steven shook his head. Steven's next task after getting Bojan through high school was getting him a job that did not require him to give lap dances.

* * * *

Wayne sat at the edge of the room, watching Xavi dance, but not seeing anything. He still came here every night, though he knew he was never coming back.

He might.

"Can I get you another?" Guti asked as he passed Wayne's table.

Wayne looked down as his empty glass as though confused to see it in front of him. "Sure."

"Everything alright?"

The hollowness in Wayne's eyes told the story.

"Come to the bar," Guti invited.

Wayne nodded and got up. He followed Guti to the bar where a bartender Wayne didn't know was pulling pints.

"Two pints, would you Sami?"

"Sure."

Wayne sat and Guti took the seat next to him.    
"Still haven't heard from him?"

Wayne shook his head. After the demise of John and Frank, Cristiano and Wayne had gone into business for themselves. Jose had quickly realized that the two of them were a forces to be reckoned with, and the three of them formed a partnership. Everything had been going well for them until Cristiano and Esteban had been on a trip to South America, and had been stopped by the DEA. They'd made a break for it, and Esteban had escaped, but Cristiano had been shot, and no one had ever heard from him again.

Esteban had been devastated, blaming himself, and Wayne had gone to look for him, but never found anything.

Guti sipped his beer, not having anything to say. What was there left to say. Wayne was dying inside and no one could help.

"I heard from Esteban yesterday," Guti said. "He's moved to Madrid and thinking about going to college."

Wayne looked at Guti. "Did you two break up?"

Guti shrugged. "I suppose."

Raul appeared out of the back and saw the two of them looking maudlin together.

"It's a strip joint, you too, you're giving the wrong impression," Raul kissed the side of Guti's face and squeezed Wayne's arm.

Guti put a cheesy smile on his face, and with a laugh, Raul walked away to check on some clients.

"Why did the two of you never get together?" Wayne asked out of no where.

"What, me and Raul?" Guti asked as though the idea surprised him. "We're friends. Partners."

"He's in love with you," Wayne said as though it should have been blindingly obvious.

Jose walked in, and made a bee line for Wayne. "I need to speak with you. You should check your phone."

Wayne looked away. His phone was dead in his car. He knew Jose was going to yell at him. He'd not been doing his share of the work lately, and while he knew Iker had been taking on some of his work, as now half partner in the business, he should contribute more.

"Can I send a drink over?" Guti offered. He and the dealers had become more friendly since everything, but he still refused to let them do business there. In fact, he'd banned drugs entirely from his establishment. He'd lost his dancer, Fabio, over it, but Xavi was trying to get clean, and never mind Bojan, but not having it around was helping them both.

The pair went to a table in the back, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mesut scampering over behind the bar.

"Hey!" 

Meust looked up, startled to have been caught. "Uh...I...uh...needed some water!"

"Get your ass on stage!"

Mesut hustled back, and Guti gave Sami a look. Sami gave him an apologetic smile. It was a secret to no one that Mesut and Sami had been seeing each other, but it was bad for business for Mesut to be sniffing around the bartender with clients in the place.

The strip club owner was annoyed, but inside, Guti was happy for Sami and Mesut. The shooting had messed up Mesut worse than any of them, and he'd been afraid they'd lose Mesut for awhile, but Sami had kept him there.

Speaking of lovers, Guti turned and saw Xavi writhing in the lap of his boyfriend, Iker. Guti sighed. At least Iker paid for the privilege.

"You're going to get wrinkles," Raul whispered in his ear.

Guti smiled. "It adds character."

Raul rubbed his thigh. "You have plenty."

Guti thought about what Wayne had said. He'd be lying if he said he'd not thought about it. Him and Raul. For some reasons, it seemed perfect, but the chance of losing Raul again because he fucked it up were enough to keep him silent.

But what he did need was a fuck.

"You're thinking about sex," Raul whispered again.

"Maybe," Guti laughed.

"Maybe you should just ask for it."

Raul was still rubbing his thigh. Guti turned in his seat to look at him. "You want to fuck?"

Raul's expression grew serious. "Fucking hell, Guti, I've wanted to fuck you since I met you."

"You have not!" Guti accused.

"You are so fucking clueless," Raul sighed and laid his head on Guti's shoulder. "I love you, you idiot."

"I love you too," Guti said. "But wouldn't that just fuck everything up?"

"No," Raul said. "Because if we've been together this long without sex, how could sex ruin anything?"

Hope swelled in Guti. "You think?"

"Yes."

"You suppose it would be unprofessional for me to drag you back to the office and let you bend me over the desk?"

"We own a strip club," Raul chuckled. "Our standards are low."

"Sami! You're in charge!"

* * * *

"I had a call from a contact of mine in Columbia today," Jose said slowly, and Wayne perked up.  
 "Yeah?"

"Now, I don't know that it's anything," Jose said, clearly trying to not get Wayne's hopes up. "But they said that someone looking like Cristiano was spotted at the Bogota airport last week."

Wayne's heart leapt. "Where was he headed? Did they say?"

Jose shook his head. "He didn't know any more than that."

"I have to go," Wayne got up.

"Sit," Jose ordered with such authority, that Wayne did. "If he was at the airport, he could be anywhere now."

Wayne's heart fell. "If he's alive, why doesn't he come back to me?"

Jose didn't answer. If you'd asked him a month ago, he'd have sworn that Cristiano never would have left Wayne.

Iker had seen the two of them talking, and gently pushed Xavi off his lap. He tucked a twenty into his g-string. "I better go see if the boss needs anything."

"I need your cock," Xavi whispered, having made it his personal goal in life to get Iker hard every night. It wasn't a difficult task.

Iker smacked his ass and crossed the club, thankful these jeans disguised his hard on. But as he approached the table, Wayne was getting up.

"You leaving?" Iker asked.

Wayne nodded shortly. He made his way out and Iker took his seat. 

"You tell him about Columbia?"

"Yes."

"He's never going to recover if Cristiano doesn't come back, is he?"

"No."

* * * *

Wayne walked into his apartment and threw his keys on the table. He hated this place, and he could certainly afford better, but it had been the place he'd lived with Cristiano for the most glorious two months of his life and for that reason alone, he would never leave.

"Where have you been?"

With a start, Wayne looked up and for a moment, thought he was hallucinating.

"Cris?"

There was a scar down the side of Cristiano's beautiful face, but it was still the most wonderful thing Wayne had ever seen. He stood up, and as he crossed over to Wayne, he realized that Cristiano had a limp.

Wayne grabbed Cristiano and held him tightly as tears started to fall. "Where have you been, why didn't you come back?"

"I couldn't," Cristiano said as his own tears fell damply on Wayne's neck. "Oh, god, Wayne, I couldn't. There are some nasty men after me, and I was afraid if you knew where I was, they'd come after you, too."

"I don't care," Wayne sobbed. "I need you. I don't care about anything else."

"I know," Cristiano said. "That's why I'm back. It's purely selfish and I'll probably get both of us killed, but I needed you. I missed you so much."

"Whatever it is," Wayne promised. "We'll face this together."

Cristiano pulled back, brown eyes meeting blue. "We'd have to leave right now. Leave everything. We could never come back."

"I don't care," Wayne said earnestly.

Cristiano nodded. "Okay."

Wayne pressed his lips to Cristiano's. As long as he had Cristiano, he could face anything.


End file.
